Weeks passed. Quietly, something bloomed between them. Unspoken. Gentle. Steady.
David began visiting Lily’s daycare just to see her smile. Friday evenings became their standing tradition. A crib appeared in his guest room, though Claire never stayed overnight.
His life, once spotless and structured, softened.
He wore jeans to work. Donated half his wine collection. Smiled more.
And he listened.
One gray afternoon, thunder rumbling in the distance, Claire stood on the rooftop garden of the foundation. Lily nestled close to her chest.
David stepped beside her. “You okay?”
Claire hesitated. “I’ve been thinking…”
“Dangerous,” he teased.
She smiled. Then turned serious. “I want to stop surviving. I want to live. I want to go back to school. Study something. Build something—for Lily, and for me.”
David’s eyes softened. “What would you study?”
“Social work,” she said. “Because someone once saw me when no one else did. I want to be that person for someone else.”
He took her hand gently.
“I’ll help in any way I can.”
She smiled. “No. I don’t want you to carry me, David. I want to walk beside you. Do you understand?”
He nodded. “More than you know.”
