Vitamin Secrets

Maria traced the lines of his palm while he slept, those familiar ridges and valleys she'd memorized over seven years of marriage. But now, each touch felt like reconnaissance. She'd become something she never wanted to be—a spy in her own bedroom, cataloging the hollow spaces beneath his nails, the faint scent of unfamiliar perfume, the way his phone always screen-down on the nightstand like a guilty secret.

The vitamins on his nightstand had changed. No more the generic multishe'd bought in bulk at Costco. Now: sleek European packaging with labels she couldn't read. Expensive. Mysterious. Another thing he hadn't mentioned.

She'd found the receipt in his coat pocket while he was in the shower. Two dinners at L'Océan. Wine she couldn't pronounce. A hotel room downtown. And those damn vitamins.

The water glass on his nightstand was empty again. He never used to wake up thirsty.

"You've been quiet," David said over breakfast, not looking up from his phone. His thumb moved like a shortstop fielding grounders—quick, practiced, relentless. Baseball had been their thing. Sunday games, cheap beer, the comfortable rhythm of something that made sense because it followed rules everyone understood.

"Just thinking about work," she said. Her coffee went cold between her hands.

"Work's good. Your promotion—"

"I didn't get it."

He finally looked up. "What?"

"Yesterday. They gave it to Tom."

"Shit, Maria. Why didn't you tell me?"

She thought about the vitamins. The hotel. The way he'd started coming home late without explanation. "I don't know. I guess I felt like you had enough on your mind."

He reached across the table and took her hand, palm to palm, skin against skin. "I'm always here for you. You know that, right?"

She wanted to believe him. She really did. But the vitamins sat in his bathroom cabinet like unspoken words, and somewhere between his lies and her suspicion, they'd both forgotten how to tell each other the truth. Their marriage had become a game nobody knew how to win anymore.

"I know," she said, and withdrew her hand to pour more water, the future spreading before her like an ocean she'd have to learn to swim alone.