What the Water Kept

The pool at the Hacienda del Sol was empty at 7 AM—just as Elena needed it. She'd been coming here every morning for three weeks, ever since Marcus left. The water's surface, usually choppy with splashing tourists by midday, was still as glass. A perfect mirror.

She slid in, the cool water shocking her skin, and began her laps. Back and forth, counting strokes, trying to outswim the memory of that night. The fight. The things she'd said. The things he hadn't denied.

On her fourth lap, she saw it: a cat, ginger and scruffy, perched on one of the lounge chairs, watching her with ancient, judgmental eyes. It was the same cat she'd seen her first day here, the morning after she'd walked in on them. The morning her friend Sarah had showed up at her doorstep with a bottle of tequila and the terrible news.

*I tried to tell you,* Sarah had said. *I tried to be a good friend.*

Elena stopped swimming, treading water in the deep end. The cat dipped one paw into the pool, testing the temperature, then withdrew it with a look of fastidious disdain. Something about that gesture—the way it held itself just outside the water's reach—made something break loose inside her.

She climbed out, water streaming down her legs, and sat on the edge. Pressed her palm against her chest, feeling the hollow thud of her heart. Three weeks of swimming laps, trying to exhaust herself enough to sleep through the night. Three weeks of avoiding Sarah's calls, because Sarah had known. Had known about Marcus and the graphic designer at his firm and hadn't said a word until it was already over.

The cat approached, rubbed its flank against her dripping calf. Purred like a small engine.

"You too, huh?" Elena whispered. "Everyone's a friend until they're not."

She pulled her phone from the towel on the chair. Twelve missed calls. Sarah had left a message yesterday: *I'm staying at the hacienda too. Room 212. Come by when you're ready. Or don't. But Marcus didn't deserve you, and I should have told you everything sooner.*

Elena stared at the screen, water pooling around her feet. The cat curled into a circle beside her, warm against her leg. In the reflection of the pool, she saw her own face—tired, yes, but surprisingly calm.

She stood up and walked toward room 212.