Vitamins for the Soul

The vitamin bottle sat on her nightstand, a daily reminder of everything she was trying to fix. Vitamin D for the seasonal depression, B-complex for the energy she couldn't seem to summon, magnesium for the sleep that wouldn't come. Her therapist called them placeholders—something to do when the real work felt impossible.

They'd met at that awful office party, the one where the CEO gave a speech about synergy while everyone pretended to laugh at his jokes. He'd been standing near the appetizers, looking as miserable as she felt. That was the thing about being the only single person at thirty-five—sometimes you found a friend in another equally lost soul.

"You look like you'd rather be anywhere else," he'd said, handing her a mocktail.

"Anywhere else," she'd agreed, and just like that, they were conspirators.

Now, three months later, she watched the fox from her kitchen window. It moved through her tiny backyard with that predatory grace, all rust-colored arrogance and survival instinct. The fox reminded her of him—that careful way of moving through the world, never quite committing, never staying long enough to be caught.

His dog, though—his dog had been different. A rescue with one ear that flopped and a heart that didn't know how to guard itself. The dog had loved her immediately, jumping onto her lap the first time she'd come over, licking away tears she hadn't realized were falling. "He's a better judge of character than I am," he'd said, and she'd laughed, not yet understanding what he meant.

The vitamins were her ex-husband's idea initially—his way of suggesting she wasn't taking care of herself without actually saying it. But she kept taking them. Maybe they worked, maybe they didn't. Some days, that was the difference between getting out of bed and not.

Her phone buzzed. A text from him: "Coffee this week?"

She watched the fox pause, sniff the air, then slip away through the fence. That's what they were—two creatures circling each other in the dark, hungry but afraid to bite. She typed back: "Yes."

The vitamin bottle waited. Tomorrow she'd take them. Today, she had a coffee date with a friend who might become something more, and that was enough.