But it wasn’t just once. Another day, he arrived home wearing his gym hoodie—zipped up tightly over dress pants, despite the warm weather. Julia raised a brow. “Isn’t it hot today?” He shrugged. “Felt a chill earlier.” The hoodie stayed on through dinner, even as sweat gathered at his temples.
It became a pattern. He stopped tossing his work shirts into the laundry bin, opting instead to “wash them himself.” He never let her fold his clothes anymore, and he hung his jackets in the coat closet instead of their bedroom. It wasn’t subtle—it was strategic. And Julia noticed.