Only then did he step back onto his patio, the pool quiet behind him. The chemical tang still hung in the air, but for the first time in weeks, the silence felt like his again—not empty, not heavy, but earned.
That evening, the house was still again. Arthur moved slowly around the patio, rinsing the skimmer, checking the pump, measuring the water’s balance. The harsh bite of bleach had already begun to fade, the pool settling back into something clear, something recognizable. He dipped a hand into the water, feeling the cool ripple slide across his skin.