What the Goldfish Knew

The goldfish had been dead for three days before Marcus finally noticed. That was the problem, really—he never noticed anything unless it was swimming directly at him, mouth open, demanding attention.

I found the body floating against the glass of the bowl, that terrible stillness that creatures of water take on when they stop moving. Marcus had already left for work, his side of the bed smooth, the pillow untouched where I'd slept for the last month in the guest room. The cat watched me from the dresser, blinking slowly, as if to say: *What did you expect?*

We'd bought the goldfish at a carnival the summer we thought we might try for a baby. Now it floated, and I stood in my bathrobe, spooning papaya into my mouth, feeling absurdly like I was eating my own youth. The fruit was too ripe, fermented almost, sweet and wrong.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Marcus asked that night. He'd found me in the backyard, swimming laps in the pool despite the October chill. The dog barked from the patio, confused by my refusal to get out, by the way I kept cutting through the water, again and again, trying to outrun something that had already caught me.

I pulled myself from the pool, shivering. "The fish died."

"What fish?"

And there it was, the whole marriage laid bare. Not cruelty, just an endless, gentle failure to see what was right in front of him. The cat wound around my ankles, purring like a small engine of forgiveness I didn't feel.

"I'm taking the dog," I said. "You can keep the cat—she likes you better anyway."

Marcus nodded, already moving toward the refrigerator, already reaching for the papaya he'd bought, still not understanding that some things, once they stop swimming, don't come back.

I packed my things while he slept. In the morning, the dog jumped into the passenger seat of my car like he'd been waiting his whole life for this moment. Behind us, the house grew smaller. I wondered how long it would take Marcus to notice I was gone, or if he'd just keep swimming through his days, mouth open, waiting for something to surface.