What We Leave Behind

Emma stood in the doorway of his apartment, the one he'd promised they'd share someday. The space felt cavernous without Marcus's laugh bouncing off the walls. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the baseball cap hanging by the door—the worn blue one he'd worn to every game they'd attended together. She buried her face in it, inhaling the faint scent of his hair product mixed with the ghost of his cologne.

Three weeks. That's how long it had been since the accident. Since the phone call that turned her world inside out. Since she'd last heard his voice.

She'd been avoiding their place. The apartment they'd spent years furnishing together, picking out curtains, arguing over paint swatches, making love on the hardwood floors before the furniture arrived. Now every object felt like an accusation.

Her phone buzzed. Lauren again. "You need to come out," the text read. "We're all going swimming at the reservoir. Remember how Marcus loved it there?"

Emma almost laughed. Remember? As if she could forget. Marcus had been the one who taught her to swim properly, who'd held her in the water until she stopped panicking, who'd made her feel safe enough to let go.

She grabbed the baseball cap and shoved it into her bag. Then she drove to the reservoir, parked, and walked to the water's edge where her friends gathered. They fell silent as she approached, that awkward hesitation everyone had around her now.

Without speaking, Emma stripped down to her swimsuit and waded into the water. It was colder than she expected, shocking her skin. She kept going until the water reached her chest, then she ducked under completely.

The world went muffled and peaceful. She floated there, suspended, neither sinking nor swimming. Just existing in the in-between place where pain couldn't quite reach her. She thought of Marcus's hair plastered to his forehead that summer they'd come here daily, how he'd looked like a victorious seal when he'd finally beaten her in a race across the reservoir. She'd never told him she let him win.

When she surfaced, gasping, Lauren was treading water nearby. "You okay?"

Emma nodded, tears mixing with reservoir water on her face. "No," she said. "But I will be."

"We'll figure it out," Lauren said. "Together."

Back on shore, Emma pulled the baseball cap onto her wet hair. It was too big, slipping down over her eyes. Perfect. She adjusted the brim and watched the sunlight dance on the water.

Marcus was gone. But she was still here, breathing, swimming, surrounded by friends who wouldn't let her drown. That would have to be enough.