My husband stood in front of the mirror, fixing his shirt like he was heading out on a date—not to work.

“And my coffee?” he called from the doorway, adjusting his belt with more energy than he’d shown me in weeks.
I handed it to him.

“A little surprise,” I said, smiling calmly.

I watched him drink.

One sip.
Two.
Three.

He finished it without hesitation.