Clark was in the living room, seated on the couch with Lois beside him. You entered from the kitchen, your steps faltering as you heard the familiar tones of their conversation. Lois’s hand rested on Clark’s arm, her voice soft but insistent. “Clark, it’s like you’re the only one who understands me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Clark looked conflicted, his gaze shifting between Lois and the floor. “I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he said, his voice edged with guilt.

You cleared your throat, stepping into the room. “Clark, can we talk?” you asked, your voice tight with emotion.

Lois’s eyes met yours, a knowing glint in them as she subtly squeezed Clark’s arm. “Of course, Clark,” she said, rising from the couch. “We’ll catch up later.”