What We Carry

The storm was still miles away when Elena found the fox at the edge of the property. It was gaunt, its red coat matted with rain that hadn't fallen yet, watching her with eyes that seemed to know something about waiting. She was holding the bottle of vitamin D supplements her doctor had prescribed—her body starving for sunlight she refused to give it, buried as she was in spreadsheets and fluorescent-lit meetings from dawn until darkness.

Inside, Marcus was already at the pool, the water glass-still beneath the gathering clouds. He'd been the one to push for the house with the pool, the one who'd said it would bring them together. Now he swam alone every evening while she watched from the window, measuring the distance between them in laps.

"You're going to get struck by lightning out there," she said, setting the vitamins on the patio table. It wasn't a joke. The air had that charged feeling, the ozone taste of something about to break.

Marcus treaded water, his hair slicked back. "Then at least something would happen."

The words hung between them like smoke. This was what their marriage had become—a bear that hibernated through spring, waking only to growl and retreat. She remembered when they'd been hungry for each other, how the mere sound of his key in the lock had made her heart do something complicated and desperate. Now she cataloged his absences like items on a grocery list.

"My mother called," he said, flipping onto his back. "She asked why we haven't visited."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her we've been busy. I told her we're happy."

Outside the property line, the fox let out a cry—something between a scream and a sob. Elena felt it in her teeth. She thought about the vitamins in her system, how they were supposed to help her absorb calcium, build strength. Some things you couldn't supplement. Some things had to come from living.

"Marcus," she said. "The lightning. Come inside."

He swam to the edge and pulled himself up, water streaming from him like he was dissolving. The first drop of rain hit the pool's surface precisely where he'd been, sending out ripples that contradicted everything.

"Elena," he said, and the way he said it made her understand that he was just as afraid as she was. That they were both waiting for the other to be the lightning.

The fox was gone when she looked. The storm broke, and they stood there as the rain came down, letting themselves be soaked by something real.