Irene seldom calls.

So when she does, with a cracked voice that alarms Wendy, she knows she needed to be there for her. At the back of her mind, she knows Irene will never turn her offer down and she knows she can be at least a friend to her. She worries anyway. She always does when it comes to Irene.

An hour later, Wendy rubs her arms as she waits in the chilly air. Cars and buses pass her by, mostly filled with passengers on their way home.

She glances at her watch. Her shift schedule this month operates on regular hours, and it’s both unusual and comforting that she’s the one waiting for Irene this time.

Just then, she sees her get off the bus and sprint towards her. Despite the smile on her face, this woman in front of her, so familiar yet so strange, has eyes that swirl dark even under the streetlights.

Wendy automatically reaches to hold Irene’s hand before she shivers in the cold air. They walk together through the quiet underpass, only exchanging sighs and tight grips on each other’s palms.

They walk through the city park and blend in groups of friends strolling by the shops before they close in.  Some couples huddle close on benches, eating spicy noodles or drinking hot coffee.

Irene’s mood has visibly lightened up, smiling more naturally every now and then. She even stops by to appreciate the flowers and the sunset that paint above them. Wendy encourages her to list down every little thing that’s bothering her and she begins by talking about her job.

But to Wendy, it seems more than just that. Her stress seems to stem heavier from something outside work. She thinks she has seen this side of Irene before – anxious, overwhelmed, panicked – all in perceived tranquility but with heart that beats loud and mind that fizzes with endless thoughts.

Wendy tucks their entwined hands in the pocket of her coat. She lets the woman continue to talk, because maybe this time she can help her get through it.

“Thank you.” Irene glances at her with a genuine smile. Wendy, proud t