Excerpt from Preservation by Raymond Carver.

Mornings, he got

up before she did and used the bathroom. Then he turned the TV on and made coffee. She thought he seemed upbeat and cheerful at that hour of the day. But by the time she left for work, he’d made his place on the sofa and the TV was going. Most often it would still be going when she came in again that afternoon. He’d be sitting up on the sofa, or else lying down on it, dressed in what he used to wear to jeans and a flannel shirt. But sometimes the TV would be off and he’d be sitting there holding his book.
“How’s it going?” he’d say when she looked in on him.
“Okay,” she’d say. “How’s it with you?”
“Okay.”