The Wellness Retreat

The corporate wellness brochure had promised transformation. Instead, Elena stood on a padel court at 7 AM, sweat already tracing her spine, watching her soon-to-be-ex-husband demonstrate perfect form with his mistress. Nothing said 'conscious uncoupling' quite like a mandatory company retreat at a luxury mountain resort. Martin's backhand connected with the ball, sending it sailing past Sarah—who giggled, clutching her racquet like she'd never held anything that weighed more than a designer handbag.

'Your turn, El!' Martin called, using that nickname he knew she hated. The vitamin deficiency he'd claimed caused her recent mood swings sat in her pocket, an unopened orange bottle she'd bought to humor his concerns about her 'energy levels.' Sarah's wellness blog, of course, had recommended them. The same blog that had recommended this retreat, and presumably, sleeping with other people's husbands.

Elena stepped forward, racquet raised. The ball approached, a neon sphere of corporate-sanctioned happiness. She didn't swing. She let it hit her chest, a dull thwack that silenced the court.

'Shit,' said someone. Maybe Martin. Maybe the HR director watching from the sidelines, clipboard ready.

'There's a bear,' Elena said, pointing toward the treeline where something massive and dark moved between the pines. Martin laughed. Sarah looked puzzled. But then it emerged—a grizzly, its shoulders hunched, watching them with eyes like ancient judgment. The resort hadn't mentioned bears in the wellness packet.

Everyone scrambled. Martin grabbed Sarah's hand. Elena stood still, the vitamin bottle suddenly heavy in her pocket, and watched the bear watch them. In that moment, something settled in her chest—clearer and more potent than any supplement could provide. The bear turned away, uninterested in their petty dramas, and she finally understood: she didn't need fixing. She just needed to let certain things break, then walk away from the pieces.