Watching

Malik noticed it the moment he handed Imani her drink.

Not something obvious.

Not a touch.

Not a word.

A feeling.

He’d always been good at reading her—her moods, her silences, the tiny shifts in her expression most people missed. That was part of why their relationship had worked so long. He knew her rhythms like he knew his own heartbeat.

And right now…

Her rhythm was different.

She took the glass from him, fingers brushing his briefly, but her attention wasn’t fully there. Her eyes drifted—just for a second—back to Zariah.

Malik followed that glance.

Zariah sat relaxed, one arm draped along the back of the couch behind Imani, posture casual like she belonged there. Like she’d always belonged there. Her expression was calm, but her eyes—

Her eyes were on Imani.

Not wandering.

Not curious.

Fixed.

Malik felt something unfamiliar stir low in his chest.

He ignored it.

“So,” he said lightly, sitting in the chair across from them, “y’all getting along?”

Imani nodded. “Yeah. She’s cool.”

Zariah’s lips curved slightly. “She’s easy to talk to.”

Malik smiled, but something about the air felt thicker now. Warmer. Charged in a way he hadn’t expected this soon.

He’d imagined tonight plenty of times.

Imagined laughter. Maybe some flirting. Maybe a little nervousness. He figured he’d be the one guiding things, setting the pace, controlling the tone.

Instead…

He felt like he’d walked into a conversation already happening.

He studied them.

Imani’s posture was composed, but he knew her tells. The way her fingers rested too carefully on her glass. The way her shoulders stayed just slightly lifted. The way she kept glancing at Zariah like she didn’t mean to—but couldn’t stop.

And Zariah?

Zariah wasn’t hiding anything.

She looked at Imani like she was enjoying a private show.

Malik leaned back slowly.

That unfamiliar feeling pressed a little harder.

Not anger.

Not yet.

Something else.

“You comfortable?” he asked Imani.

She looked at him. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugged. “Just checking.”

Zariah tilted her head. “You worried about her?”

Malik met her gaze. “Should I be?”

Her smile didn’t fade. “Not unless you don’t trust her.”

The words were smooth.

Easy.

But they landed like a test.

Imani’s eyes flicked between them, sensing the shift.

Malik chuckled softly. “I trust my wife.”

Zariah held his gaze a moment longer.

Then she nodded once. “Good.”

Silence settled briefly.

Imani took a sip of her drink, though she wasn’t thirsty. Her pulse had started that flutter again—the one she didn’t understand, the one that only showed up when Zariah looked at her too long.

Which she was doing again now.

Malik saw it.

Saw the way Imani’s breathing slowed.

Saw the way her lips parted slightly before she spoke.

Saw the way she leaned—barely noticeable—half an inch closer.

Something tightened behind his ribs.

He shifted in his seat.

“So Zariah,” he said casually, “tell me something about you she don’t know yet.”

Zariah didn’t look away from Imani when she answered.

“I’m very observant.”

Imani’s fingers tightened slightly around her glass.

Malik forced a smile. “Yeah? What you observing right now?”

That’s when Zariah finally turned her eyes to him.

Calm. Steady. Unbothered.

“That she’s curious,” she said.

The room stilled.

Imani swallowed. “I mean… anyone would be. This is new.”

Zariah nodded slowly. “Yeah. It is.”

Malik watched them carefully now, something sharp and unfamiliar beginning to edge into his thoughts.

He’d wanted excitement.

Wanted something different.

Wanted to shake their routine.

But he hadn’t expected this—

This quiet gravity pulling his wife’s attention somewhere he couldn’t reach.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You good, baby?” he asked her again, softer this time.

Imani looked at him.

And for a second—

Just one—

She hesitated before answering.

“…Yeah.”

That pause was small.

Tiny.

Almost nothing.

But Malik felt it like a crack in glass.

Zariah noticed too.

Her lashes lowered slightly, hiding a flicker of something that looked dangerously close to satisfaction.

Malik sat back again slowly, jaw tightening just a fraction.

The night was still young.

But for the first time since he’d suggested this idea…

He had the unsettling feeling that he might’ve opened a door he didn’t know how to close.