Sam stepped through the bedroom door, damp from the shower. He paused just inside, brushing damp hair from his face, then leaned over to kiss Jennette's forehead. He offered her a soft, "Have a good day," before heading off into the quiet apartment.
She watched him leave, chest tight. She typed a quick reply to a work text; something mundane, but her fingers trembled slightly. She tossed her phone onto the rumpled covers and picked up a book from the shelf nearby. Its title, a slim novel about resilience, felt heavy with irony.
She turned a page and tried to focus, but deep down, she felt something was off.
Sunlight shifted through late morning, the apartment growing warmer. Jennette traced the spine of her book with a fingertip, but her gaze drifted past the pages. When noon arrived, she closed the book softly and stood, smoothing the cover with a careful finger.
