Ethan
I stood at the window long after Clara's footsteps had faded down the corridor, my reflection staring back at me in the darkened glass, a stranger's face wearing my own features.
I had wanted to kiss her. God help me, I had wanted it more than I'd wanted anything in over a year, and for one reckless, unguarded moment, I'd let myself believe it might actually be simple. That the current between us, undeniable and constant since the moment she'd walked back into my life, could just be allowed to exist without consequence.
Then reason had reasserted itself, cold and unwelcome, and I'd pulled away before either of us could do something neither of us could undo.
I sat down heavily in my chair, running a hand through my hair, furious at myself in ways I couldn't fully untangle. Furious
