What Remains in the Drain

Mara stood at the vanity of the honeymoon suite she'd booked alone, tweezers hovering over her chin. The magnifying mirror showed every strand—the coarse, dark ones that had started appearing after David left. She plucked one, wincing at the sharp pinch, watching it curl in the sink like a question mark she couldn't answer.

Outside, the Caribbean lapped against the resort's retaining wall. Water had always been her element—David used to call her his siren, pulling him into dangerous depths. Now the ocean just looked like something that could swallow you whole if you let it.

The complimentary breakfast had included papaya, ripe and bleeding orange onto the plate. She'd taken one bite and the taste hit like a memory she'd spent three years trying to drown. Their last morning together: David cutting papaya in their Brooklyn kitchen, juice running down his wrist, saying he couldn't do this anymore, couldn't keep pretending they were happy when she couldn't give him what he wanted. She'd begged, actually begged on her knees, hair spilling over her face like a curtain she couldn't see through.

She'd almost done it then—walked into the Hudson with rocks in her pockets. Something about the way he said "we need different things" made it sound like she was defective. Replaceable.

Now she ran her fingers through her hair, thinner than it used to be, and thought about how much of herself she'd shaved away trying to become someone who could stay loved. The papaya sat untouched on the room service cart, sweet and rotting in the tropical heat.

Mara opened the balcony door and stepped out, the humid air heavy on her skin. Below, the water churned against the rocks. She could do it. Could finally finish what she'd started three years ago.

Instead she went back inside, ordered fresh papaya from room service, and ate it with her hands while sitting on the bed she'd paid for alone. Letting the juice run down her wrists like David used to do. Like she was allowed to make a mess now. Like she was allowed to take up space.