Sarah's Concern

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, usually a comforting herald of a Saturday morning, seemed to hang heavier in the air than usual. Sarah Chen watched Jack Black from the kitchen doorway, a silent observer in the quiet hum of their shared apartment. He was across the living room, ostensibly reading the newspaper, but his gaze drifted, unfocused, towards the window. There was a new posture about him, a subtle straightening of the shoulders, a certain glint in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. It was a confidence, yes, but one that felt less like an organic bloom and more like a carefully constructed facade.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Jack said, his voice a touch too bright, too casual. He lowered the paper, offering her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Sarah walked over, pouring herself a mug. “Morning. You’re up early.”