What We Bear

The corporate retreat was Sarah's idea—team building, she called it. Now Marcus stood by the hotel pool at sunset, nursing an orange cocktail that matched the burning horizon, watching his wife across the water. She was laughing with Daniel, their company's new VP, her hand lingering on his arm just a second too long.

Marcus had suspected for months. The late nights. The encrypted messages on her phone. The way she'd started dressing differently for work. But seeing it—actually witnessing the easy intimacy between them—was something else entirely. It wasn't just betrayal; it was the casual way she'd rewritten their eighteen years together.

The pool lights flickered on, casting rippling reflections across the patio. Other colleagues drifted toward the bar, already lubricated by open bars and forced camaraderie. Someone made a joke about the company's stock—a bear market was coming, they said. Better tighten their belts.

Marcus finished his drink, the ice melting against his lips. He remembered their honeymoon, how they'd floated in a pool just like this one in Mexico, making promises about forever. Now he wondered how long Sarah had been quietly unpacking those promises, one by one, when he wasn't looking.

She glanced his way then, and for a moment her mask slipped—something like guilt or maybe defiance flashed across her face. Then Daniel whispered something, and she laughed, turning back to him, and Marcus understood: she'd already chosen. The bear market wasn't coming for their company; it had already taken his marriage.

He set his glass down on a concrete table and walked toward the hotel room, already planning what he'd bear alone tomorrow, and what he wouldn't bear any longer.