What We Bear in Water

The pool was empty at 5 AM—that's why Mara liked it. No witnesses to the way her body had changed, no curious eyes tracing the fresh scar across her abdomen. She slipped into the cold water, began her laps, and tried to outpace the thoughts that always caught up to her eventually.

"You're still here."

Mara stopped mid-stroke, coughing up chlorinated water. Elena stood poolside in her scrubs, holding two Tupperware containers. Six months since the funeral, and this was the first time.

"I swim every morning," Mara said, not climbing out.

Elena sat at the edge, feet in the water. "I brought you breakfast. Spinach feta thing from that café we used to like. It's probably cold now."

Mara swam to the wall. "Why are you here?"

"David's trial starts Monday. I thought you should know."

The name was a stone in her throat. David, Elena's husband. David, who'd been driving that night. David, who'd walked away with scratches while Mara's fiancé—Elena's brother—had burned alive in the crushed metal of the passenger seat.

"They offered him a plea deal," Elena continued, voice steady. "Manslaughter. Two years. He might not serve any time."

Mara gripped the pool edge until her knuckles turned white. "And you're still with him?"

Elena's laugh was hollow. "You think it's simple? You think I don't hate him sometimes? But Mara—he's still my husband. We have twelve years. You don't just..." She trailed off.

"You don't just what? Forgive? Forget?"

"You bear it." Elena met her eyes. "You bear what you can't change. Isn't that what you're doing in this pool every morning? Trying to outswim something that won't stop chasing you?"

The truth of it cracked something open in Mara's chest. She pulled herself from the water, dripping and shivering, and reached for the container. The spinach feta pie was cold.

"I don't know if I can ever forgive him," Mara said.

"I'm not asking you to. I'm just asking if we can still be friends in the meantime."

Mara took a bite. It tasted like grief and salt and something like beginning again.

"Stay," she said. "While I finish my laps."

Elena nodded. And in the gray light of dawn, they both bore what they could not change.