Tropical Decay

The papaya sat untouched on the white ceramic plate, its flesh weeping into the breakfast tray. Maya watched the hotel staff clear the table beside hers—another couple, still holding hands across the empty coffee cups, still believing in the myth of the second honeymoon.

She'd had spinach in her teeth the night before. David had pointed it out with that gentle smile she used to adore, the one that said, *I love you enough to tell you.* But something had shifted in the three years since their wedding. Now his corrections felt like something else—like he was polishing a display piece that had lost its luster, keeping up appearances for an audience of one.

He was at the conference now. She'd declined the networking events to lounge by the infinity pool, the blue water blurring into the Pacific horizon. A man swam laps in the distance, his strokes rhythmic and relentless. She envied the simplicity of forward motion—just keep swimming, don't look back.

The papaya had grown warm. She speared a piece with her fork, the fruit collapsing under the slightest pressure. Too ripe. Too late. Just like so many things she'd only recognized after they'd turned.

She remembered when David had courted her with recipes he'd learned from his grandmother, the way he'd stood behind her at the stove, his chest against her back, guiding her hands as they chopped fresh spinach for a salad. *Cooking is love,* he'd whispered against her neck. Now they ate separately, meals scheduled around his consulting calls, her freelance deadlines, the efficient partitioning of their shared life.

The swimming pool emptied as lunchtime approached. Maya ordered a drink she wouldn't finish. The papaya sat on her plate like evidence of a small, private failure.

When David returned that evening, he'd ask about her day. She'd say it was fine. She'd say she'd gone swimming. Some things were easier to say than others. The truth was, she didn't know how to tell him that she was still hungry, or that she'd discovered she preferred the papaya before it went soft.