Sarah just wasn’t the same. There was something different in her eyes. They didn’t seem as deep, as bright. The rest of her seemed normal: her short brown hair, a perfect halo accentuating her face in a way that it was hard not to stare; her body, just as lean and toned as usual. She was dressing a bit more dangerously, a lower cut shirt here and there. Her jeans were a little too tight every once in a while, but she’d done this before, when she was feeling particularly good about herself. She liked to look good. Most people did. Not much had changed, but her eyes—there was something different about her eyes.
She was eating her spaghetti casually, not speaking. Every few minutes she’d flash him a little smile, but that was it. He twirled his spaghetti around his fork. He hadn’t had a bite and she hadn’t noticed. She always noticed things like that. She was always concerned about whether or not he liked what she had cooked, even something as simple as pasta. She hadn’t noticed. It irritated him even more.
“Are you all right?”
She looked up for a second. Smile. “Of course. Why do you ask?”
Done with her meal, she picked up her plate and glass and took them to the sink. He heard the running of water, then the opening and closing of the dishwasher. She returned a few minutes later. “I’ve got a late appointment. Client couldn’t meet any other time.”
“OK. When will you be back?”
“Late. It’s a double session, and then me and Christina are going out for a drink. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He dropped his fork. “All right.”