[Because it's been awhile since we've seen anything from the Unsettled fam. Why must it always make our stomach's drop, you ask? That's just the way of the story, I suppose....]

He'd not been gone all that long. He'd only ventured off to find potatoes so that they could cross that off their shopping list. Would've been quicker about it but there were choices and he hadn't thought to ask which she might prefer - or what meal she was thinking of when she'd sent him off on the hunt. But as he rounds the end of the aisle to return to her, to the place where she said she'd be waiting, something unexpected greets him.

Yes, she's standing there, just as she said she would. Max's mother stands there by the apples with their cart before her, roughly halfway filled with their shopping. What is unexpected is to find her engaged in conversation. Not just talking to this other person, this stranger to him, but laughing...

She's positively luminous. It's something about the way they're standing, even with the cart between them. Something about it gives him pause as he approaches the pair of them, here, in the middle of the grocers. It's intimate. Familiar.

But he doesn't know this other man. Could it be someone from work? Someone he's yet to meet? All the more reason to finish his approach, to introduce himself.

Instead of the luminous smile turning on him as she spots him, the expression of joy on Max's mother's face falters, bringing with it a cold sharp jab to his gut. He used to weather such changes in her expression with ease – or rather, fight against the notion that she'd never do anything but glare or cast unfeeling glances his way.

The sudden stop to the conversation when the man turns to acknowledge his approach, Tom but a mere few steps away from the pair of them, all but confirms the feeling taking root in Tom's gut. He empties his hands of his offering to her, coupling the tumbling tubers with a sharp smile, "The potatoes. As requested, love."

It makes the other man sidestep away from the cart, and Max's mother wince. The air in the small space between the three of them shifts, and there's a sudden charge that hadn't been there a moment prior.

In an instant Tom knows, without a doubt, who this other man is. He confirms his hunch within seconds with the simple act of holding out his hand for introductions.

Jack.

There's some small satisfaction to glean from the situation from the simple fact that Jack's attention hits her hand more than once, his eyes glancing off the engagement ring that sits on her finger.