John is halfway through paperwork, the low hum of the room blending into the background like white noise. Voices pass by, boots against concrete, the distant clatter of something metal hitting the floor but none of it really registers. His focus is somewhere else. It has been all morning. She said she wasn’t feeling well again. Not unusual. Not anymore. He told her to stay home this time. Actually stay home. No stubborn smile, no quiet “I’ll be fine,” no pushing through it like she always does. 