Chapter 10
The afternoon sun broke through the persistent drizzle, casting long, watery beams across the suburban lawns. David was out in the backyard, mechanically pushing the lawnmower across the grass, letting the monotonous roar of the engine drown out the residual static in his mind. The physical exertion felt good, burning off the nervous energy that had plagued him since the hospital.
Through the kitchen window, Clara watched him for a moment before the doorbell rang, echoing sharply through the quiet house. She frowned slightly, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she walked through the hallway to the front door. Opening it, she was surprised to find Sarah standing on the porch, still wearing her signature beige trench coat, holding a small paper bag that smelled faintly of bakery goods.
"Sarah," Clara said, her voice neutral. "What are you doing here?"
Sarah offered a hesitant, empathetic smile, stepping back slightly to give Clara space. "I was in the neighborhood. I brought some pastries from the bakery down on Elm Street. I know it's probably too early for company, and you can slam the door in my face if you want, but I wanted to check on you both."
Clara looked at her for a long moment, reading the genuine concern etched into Sarah’s features. The professional armor Sarah usually wore for client meetings was absent, replaced by the vulnerability of an old friend who didn't quite know how to navigate her own empathy. "Come on in, Sarah," Clara said, stepping aside to let her enter.
Sarah stepped into the foyer, slipping out of her trench coat and hanging it neatly on the rack. She followed Clara into the kitchen, placing the paper bag on the counter. "How are you holding up, Clara? Really?"
"We're surviving," Clara said simply, pulling two plates from the cupboard. "David took a leave of absence from the firm. He's outside mowing the lawn right now."
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Sarah nodded slowly, leaning against the counter. "He called me this morning. I was shocked at first, but honestly? It’s the best thing he could have done. David has always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, trying to fix everything with logistics because he can't bear the thought of being powerless."
"He told me the exact same thing this morning," Clara said, offering a faint, melancholic smile as she poured fresh coffee into two mugs. Just then, the sound of the lawnmower outside sputtered and died. Heavy footsteps approached the back door, and a moment later, David walked into the kitchen, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. He froze when he saw Sarah standing by the counter.
