The wife snorted. “Old man, we told you already, we don’t care about your pool. Stop bothering us with it. If you can’t keep it clean, that’s your problem.” Arthur nodded once, the weight of futility heavy in his chest.
“Very well,” he said quietly, and turned back across the grass. Their voices picked up behind him almost immediately, laughter sharp and dismissive, as if his presence had been nothing more than a brief interruption.