The familiar scent of damp earth and blooming petunias greeted Clara as she stepped out of her car at Leo’s. It was a comforting, grounding smell, a stark contrast to the sterile, silent house she’d left behind. She walked up the stone path, her hand still instinctively resting on her stomach, and knocked tentatively on the worn wooden door.
A moment later, the door swung open. Leo stood there, a paint-splattered apron over his clothes, a smudge of cerulean on his cheek. His brows, usually furrowed in amused concentration, shot up in surprise at the sight of her. "Clara! Hey, what a surprise. Come on in." His smile was warm, but as his eyes, sharp and perceptive, took in her pale face and shadowed eyes, the smile faltered. The usual spark of playful banter was absent from her demeanor, re
