What the Palm Reader Said

The lines on her palm were supposed to mean something—that's what Elena believed, anyway. She sat across from me at the kitchen table, her hand outstretched, waiting for me to read her future like I had any business doing such a thing. I traced the life line with my thumb, feeling the soft vulnerability of her skin.

"You're going to live a long time," I said, because it was what she wanted to hear.

She pulled her hand back. "That's not what the woman on Santa Monica said. She said my fate line was broken. Like I'm running out of time to decide."

The orange sat between us on the table, its bright skin already partially peeled. I'd bought it at the farmer's market that morning, back when I still believed small gestures could fix us. Now it just looked like evidence of optimism I couldn't sustain.

"Maybe fate isn't decided," I said. "Maybe we decide."

Elena laughed, but not like she meant it. "That's convenient. That lets you off the hook."

The spinach in the fridge was wilting—I'd seen it when I reached for the wine. Two weeks ago we'd bought it together, talking about eating better, living better, being better together. Now it was probably slimy, another small thing decaying while we argued about whether to move in, whether to stay, whether anything mattered at all.

"What if I don't want to be read anymore?" she asked suddenly. "By you, by psychics, by anyone who thinks they can see through me."

I thought about saying something grand, something about how we'd find our way back to each other. Instead I reached for the orange, peeled off a section, and put it in my mouth. The juice stung my tongue.

"Then don't," I said. "Just be here. With me. With this rotten spinach and this overripe orange and whatever comes next."

She looked at me for a long moment. Then she picked up the other half of the orange and ate it, standing there in our kitchen that smelled like dying leaves and possibility. The future wasn't written anywhere, certainly not in her palm. It was just this: two people deciding whether to keep deciding together.