Clara went quiet, feeling overwhelmed by how busy she’d been lately. She thought about ending things with him again, but the memory of him standing on that cliff edge held her back. She just couldn't bring herself to hurt him like that. Plus, she had so much else on her plate, and dealing with his emotions felt impossible right now.
Every time he got upset, it was a whole ordeal that stretched into the next day, leaving her worn out. Her fingers hovered over her phone, hesitating to type that breakup message. Just then, another text from him came through.
"I can't live without you. I know you always think about leaving, but I can't let go. I miss you so much. Every day, I just want to see you. You don’t know how much it hurts."
Clara’s heart clenched with guilt. He knew exactly how to hit her soft spot, and each word tugged at her conscience. Maybe it’s just a woman’s instinct to feel compassion when someone shows vulnerability. And really, he hadn’t done anything wrong.
She bit her lip and replied, "I miss you too, but I’ve been swamped. Once things settle down, we can spend all the time you want together, okay?"
Surprisingly, he took it well this time, texting back, "Okay, I believe you."
Clara felt her heart melt a little. She was always more moved by kindness than by anything else, and she even managed a small smile, sending him a heart emoji.
With her phone set aside, her mind drifted back to the land deal. Should she really go to Jackson for help? The thought of his cold stare made her shiver. Dylan seemed like a safer bet—at least she'd come back in one piece.
Why had she ever thought it was a good idea?
Desperate, she grabbed her phone and called him. But he didn’t pick up, letting it ring out on the table. Determined to show she was truly sorry, Clara decided to stay outside Palm Bay until Dylan was ready to forgive her.
By three in the morning, Dylan checked with the guards and found out she was still there, standing tall like a flag in the night. He lowered his eyes, but his expression gave nothing away.
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