Starla leaned back in her chair with a knowing smile, shaking her head in amusement.
"Honestly, Lance, don't you feel bad that your husband actually cares about you and worries all the time?" she teased, though her voice carried genuine warmth. She reached out to pat Lance's shoulder reassuringly. "Go. Take a rest. Take as much time as you need. I'll handle everything here. You don't need to carry this all on your shoulders."
Lance sighed, clearly torn between his sense of duty and the fatigue weighing on him.
Finally, he turned to Mitchell, his expression softening. "Starla has a habit of forgetting her own schedule," he said, his tone light but meaningful. "I know you'll be a great support to her."
Mitchell straightened his posture, his hands balling into nervous fists at his sides. "I… I'll do my best!" he replied, his voice filled with earnest determination.
