What the Water Knows

The palm fronds above cast everything in shadow — just as she'd been casting their marriage for months. Elena sat at the edge of the pool, legs in the water, watching Daniel swim laps with that easy grace she'd fallen for seven years ago.

The hat she'd bought him last summer lay forgotten on the chaise beside her, its wide brim curled slightly at the edges. He never wore it anymore. Not since he started coming home smelling of someone else's perfume.

Her phone vibrated. Not hers — his.

He'd left it on the small table between their loungers when he went swimming. A notification lit the screen: "Sarah: Can't wait for tonight xxx"

Elena's stomach hollowed out. Sarah from accounting? Sarah from the gym? Which Sarah?

She watched him cut through the water, rhythmic and sure, while her world unspooled. The pool's surface rippled around her calves, cool and indifferent. Some vacation this was supposed to be — their last-ditch attempt to save what was already dead.

"Everything okay?"

She jumped. Marcus, Daniel's business partner, stood above her with a drink in each hand. His eyes flicked to the glowing iPhone on the table, then back to her face. Something passed between them — recognition, pity, maybe warning.

"Fine," she said, too quickly.

Marcus set down the drinks and walked away without another word. He knew. Of course he knew.

Daniel surfaced at the pool's edge, pushing wet hair back, smiling at her like nothing was wrong. Like their life wasn't dissolving in the chlorine-scented air.

"The water feels amazing," he said. "Come swimming?"

Elena looked at the phone, at the hat, at the palm leaves swaying in the breeze above them. Then at her husband, treading water in the deep end, waiting for her to join him like she always did. Like she would always do.

"No," she said, standing up. "I think I'm done swimming."

She picked up his phone, walked to the edge of the pool, and dropped it into the deep end where Daniel floated.

"What the — "

"Forgot to mention," she said, watching the device sink. "Sarah sends her regards."