Lois had noticed the shift in you long before you said a word.

There was a new spark in your smile, a bounce in your step that hadn’t been there before. You talked more at dinner—sometimes even over each other—eager to share little pieces of your day. And most surprising of all, you actually wanted to hang out with her and Clark.

At first, she and your father exchanged quiet, puzzled glances behind your back. It wasn’t like you to float through the house like that, glowing from something—or someone.

And then it clicked. The way your eyes lit up when you asked, a little nervous, a little excited, if you could go out. A date, you clarified, in case it hadn’t been obvious enough.

Lois’s first thought was, my baby’s growing up. Her second was, okay... who is this person?

Of course she wanted the best for you. You were her baby. And she needed to make sure whoever had your heart deserved it—without stomping all over your space like a worried mom.

So she agreed. Gave you your moment, your freedom. (Until this mystery date got introduced properly, of course.)

That’s how she ended up in her car, fingers tapping gently against the steering wheel, parked just outside the movie theater. She’d handed you some spending money, watched you walk off full of hope, and promised—just for peace of mind—to wait until your date arrived.

But seconds turned into minutes.

And minutes turned into an hour.

Her lips gradually pulled into a frown as she watched you glance at your phone for what must have been the hundredth time. You tried to play it off—casual, patient—but she could see right through it. The tight grip on your phone, the forced stillness in your shoulders, the way your eyes lingered on every passing face with a flicker of hope. Lois didn’t want to embarrass you—God, she knew how that could sting—but her chest burned with quiet anger.

This was her baby. And who in their right mind could leave someone like you waiting?

By the time the sun had dipped low behind the horizon, casting long golden streaks across the pavement, she knew it was time.

Too much time had passed. So with a soft sigh, she opened the car door and stepped out, walking toward you—each step slow, steady, carrying all the love and fury of a mother who couldn’t stand to see her child hurt.