Chapter 95 The Flowers and the Card
Clara
The door closes, the sound remains floating for a few seconds in the apartment, like a small echo that slowly dissolves into silence.
And suddenly… I’m alone.
I stand in the middle of the room motionless, still staring at the door where Ethan just walked out, as if my body hasn’t finished processing that he’s no longer here.
I exhale slowly.
“God,” I murmur to myself.
I run a hand through my still-wet hair and walk slowly toward the kitchen.
The dishes are still on the table, both of them. One in front of the other.
The cups, the breadcrumbs, the pan that’s still on the stove.
It’s funny how a place can feel so crowded a few minutes ago… and so empty all of a sudden.
I sit in the chair where I was before.
Irest my elbows on the table and cover my face with my hands, and then my mind starts to rewind everything.
Last night, this morning. Him waking up in my bed.
Ethan walking around my kitchen as if he was trying to remember how to do it, Ethan preparing breakfast.
The image comes back to my head all too clearly, him standing in front of the stove, concentrating on something as simple as cracking eggs in a frying pan.
I never thought that seeing that again was going to affect me so much, I swallow hard. And then… inevitably… another memory appears.
Ethan coming out of the bathroom, with only the towel rolled up around his waist.
I close my eyes for a second.
“Clara,” I whisper to myself.
Because yes, I looked at him. Of course I looked at him.
How could I not? Two years have passed. Two years since the last time I was so close to his body.
And suddenly he appears in front of me as if time had not passed.
With wet hair, water still falling down his 20
That relaxed way of walking that he always had.
And my brain just stopped working for a moment.
I feel my cheeks warm at the memory, it’s ridiculous.
After everything that happened between us, after having been in his bed for years.
After what we did last night… And yet… This morning I behaved as if it were the first time I had ever seen a half-naked man in my life.
I drop my hands from my face, I look at the table. The plate where my breakfast was still has a small piece of toast on it.
I smile just because there’s something else I can’t ignore. Breakfast.
Ethan making me breakfast, it’s such an image… domestic. So normal, and maybe that’s why it hits me so hard.
Because for a few minutes… It felt like before, as if those separate years hadn’t existed.
As if we were still that couple who shared quiet mornings before the world began to move.
I lean back in my chair, looking up at the ceiling. And I let out a long sigh.
The question appears alone in my head.
What exactly happened between us last night?
Because it wasn’t just sex, it wasn’t just nostalgia. There was something else, something soft.
Something that slipped through the uncomfortable looks, between breakfast, between that short
kiss before he left.

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