THE RED SALTY OCEAN BETWEEN US

It was the night of their twelfth anniversary, Miriam Hale stood barefoot in the kitchen, watching the sauce simmer while the rain traced slow, patient lines down the window. From the outside, the house looked like a photograph in a magazine. Warm light. Soft curtains. Crystal clear large windows that made it look homely. Inviting with the suggestion of laughter inside. People always told her how lucky she was. "You two are solid," her sister liked to say. "Unshakeable." Miriam always believed and felt that. She smiled, adjusted the flame and wiped her hands on a linen towel, listening for the sound of Daniel's car in the driveway. It was nearly eight. He had texted at six. 'running late. Big client. Don't wait up. But I will be home as soon as I can' She had waited anyway. Two-white plates were set on the dining table. Perfect table for two. Real silverware, the wine they'd saved from their trip to France five years ago. She had even worn the blue dress he once said made her look the ocean just before sunset. She smiled as a the sweet memory flashed through her mind. Back then, he couldn't keep his hands off her. She checked her reflection in the darkened window. Thirty six didn't feel old to her. Her waist was still curved, her hair thick and dark. There were faint lines on the corners of her eyes, yes-but they came from laughter. From living. From loving. Still, she found herself smoothing invisible creases on her dress. 8:17, headlights swept across the front wall. Her pulse lifted. A smile slowly curved throughout her face. She listened as the front door slowly opened, she heard his footsteps a he stepped in. Rain clinging to his coat. He looked handsome in the way he always had-broad shoulders, enviable gait, handsome face with soft-well maintained beard. Salt just beginning to touch his temples. Success fit him well. "Hey," he said, distracted, dropping his keys into the ceramic bowl by the door. "Happy anniversary bayb," she answered softly. Moving closer to him. He blinked, as if pulling a memory from a distance shelf behind his eyes. The he smiled, a forced, nervous smile that she never noticed. "Right. Of course. Happy anniversary," It was quick, rushed even. He kissed her cheek. Not her lips and certainly not the way it used to-like he was claiming something he couldn't bear to lose. She swallowed the faint sting of disappointment. Now, clearly noting his distraction. "I made your favorite," she said making her way towards the kitchen."That smells amazing." He shrugged off his coat and carelessly threw it at the couch in the living room before heading for the dining. "I'm starving. The sat across from each other, the candlelight flickering between them like a fragile bridge. Daniel talked about work almost immediately. New contracts a marketing pitch, the pressure of competition. There is this new strategist," he added casually pouring wine. "Brilliant, honestly. She is young, sharp... She is shaking things up in a crazy good way," a huge, honest to God smile curved itself up on his face. A smile that looked all too familiar to her. "Oh," Miriam smiled. "What's her name?" she almost whispered. "Lila," the smile grew bigger and brighter. The name lingered longer than it should have in Miriam's mind forming echoes that rang back and forth. "And she's good?" she asked again in an almost whisper. "Absolutely..." He paused for a second wiped the smile off his face, then smiled again better than before. "She's fearless, doesn't hesitate, honestly, it is refreshing." "Refreshing," this time she almost lost her voice completely. Miriam took a slow sip of wine. "Sounds like you admire her," she said afraid of the answer but feeling the need to hear it anyway. Something in his eyes glinted. Not guilt, not yet anyway. Something brighter. A spark she knew all too well, A spark she hadn't seen in a while. She swallowed hard, took a deep breath, smiled and brushed everything off. She was sure it was just her imagination running a bit wild from the wine, or the expectations she had for the night. The evening continued politely. They ate. Once in a while they clinked glasses. They reminisced about their honeymoon in Mombasa, the infamous Kenyan coast, where the ocean had been impossibly blue and Daniel had pulled her narrow alleyways just to kiss her. "You remember how we got lost that night?" she asked the memory still fresh on her mind. "Yeah, we argued about directions," he smiled faintly. "And then we ended up dancing in that courtyard. You remember, the one that had these small red crabs in it that later made you scream like a girl," "Right," he said but the memory didn't cozy up to him the way it did to her. He glanced at his phone as soon as he was done eating. Once. Twice. Three times. The glow reflected in his eyes like a secret language only he understood. "Everything okay," she noted. "Yeah, just work stuff," he was dismissive, and honestly, a little bit annoyed. After he was done, he set the phone face down on the table. Miriam felt something shift inside her, her stomach sank a little bit and her ears felt a little warm. A quiet awareness. Like hearing a wave before you see it. Later that night, they lay in bed.Daniel kept a careful distance between them. The rain grew heavier tapping its uneven rhythm on the roof. Miriam felt a chill move up her body and turned towards Daniel. "Do you ever think about how we used to be?" she asked, placing her hand over his chest. He exhaled slowly "What do you mean?" he asked oblivious of her somewhat sad face. "You know, before everything became schedule and responsibilities. When we couldn't wait to get home to each other," He rolled onto his back, brushing off her hand, staring blankly at the ceiling. "That's just what happens Miriam. Life settles," "Settles," she said it as if she was about to start a poem. The word felt like dust. She reached for his hand. His fingers laced with hers automatically, but there was no squeeze, no silent reassurance, no spark, just routine. Just contact. "You're happy aren't you?" she asked in a whisper. He hesitated just long enough to unsettle her. "Of course I am," The answer came too clean, too rehearsed. She nodded, pretending it satisfied her. Besides her, Daniel's mind slowly drifted-not to their happy past, or to the amazing dinner they just had downstairs not to her beauty or to the celebration of the years they have been together. It drifted to the office that afternoon. To Lila standing across the conference table, he sleeves rolled up, dark shinny hair falling over her shoulder flowing like a smooth wave in the sea. To the way she had challenged him without fear. "You have changed to playing it safe ," she had said her eyes locked on his. "That is not how you used to be, is it?" That comment had landed harder that he found comfortable. When the meeting ended, she,d stayed behind. "You build this company from nothing," she was softer then. "That kind of ambition, doesn't just disappear." She had looked at him like he was still that man. Back in the bedroom, Miriam felt him withdraw, not physically but inwardly. His breathing shifted. Almost as if his thoughts had gone somewhere she couldn't follow. And there it was. Distance. Like standing on shore and watching someone slowly drift in a boat. convincing yourself they'll turn back any second. She closed her eyes. "Goodnight" she whispered. "Goodnight," In the dark, Daniel's phone vibrated softly on the nightstand. He ignored. Another vibration. Miriam stirred slightly but didn't wake. She felt as he carefully reached for the phone. He angled the screen so the light wouldn't spill across the room. Lila:You were brilliant. They hung on your every word. ( A small smile tugged on his mouth) Daniel:Couldn't have done it without your push. Three dots appeared immediately. Lila: maybe you just needed someone to remind you who you are. His chest tightened. He felt warmer, sharper even. Besides him, Miriam shifted again, unconsciously reaching toward his side of the bed. Her hand met empty space. He had moved away. Daniel locked his phone and placed it face down. Outside, the rain continued to fall, steady and relentless. Something was clear though. Inside the quiet bedroom something invisible had begun to form. A narrow line of water between two people who once stood on the shore, and shared everything. It wasn't an ocean yet. Just a thin, red, salty seam. But it was there. And it was growing.