Vitamin Palm Dreams

The orange sun dipped below the horizon as Elena sat alone at the resort pool, her palm resting against the warm concrete. She'd spent the morning swallowing vitamin supplements—D for her bones, B for her nerves, Omega-3 for a heart that felt increasingly fragile. Marcus had left three days ago, after the fight about his assistant's text messages at 2 AM.

A stray cat wound around her lounge chair, its black coat glossy in the twilight. Elena scratched behind its ears, remembering how Marcus used to joke that she collected strays—animals, broken people, lost causes. Now she was the stray.

"Your husband's checking out," the receptionist had told her earlier, her voice neutral. "He booked a flight to Chicago. Said you'd understand."

She peeled the orange she'd brought, its citrus scent sharp and clean. The fruit's flesh burst when she bit into it, sweet and acidic, staining her fingers. Somewhere by the pool bar, a young couple laughed, their bodies pressed together in that way new lovers have—no space for air or doubt.

Elena watched the cat stalk away, toward the shadow of palm trees swaying in the evening breeze. She thought about all the vitamins she'd taken over the years, trying to supplement what was missing—iron for energy, calcium for strength, vitamin E for skin that refused to age gracefully. None of them had prepared her for this particular hollow ache.

Her phone lit up with a message from Marcus: *I'm sorry. I'll wire you half the settlement.*

Elena typed back: *Keep it. I don't want your money. I want my husband.* Then she deleted both words and hit send on: *Okay.*

She stood and stretched, her joints popping in the quiet air. The pool's water reflected the last light, a perfect oval of trembling blue. She'd swim laps tomorrow, she decided. For now, she would sit in the dark and let herself feel everything she'd been medicating away for years.

The cat returned, settling at her feet like it understood. Elena stroked its soft head and finally allowed herself to cry.