Vanessa
I smile, of course I smile. It's what I do best, it's what I've always done.
I hold onto that smile as I get up from the table, as I grab my bag, as I feel Clara's gaze still on me… steady, confident, different. Different from how I remembered it.
"Take care of what you have…" I say, without looking at her. And I walk slowly, without haste.
Each step measured, elegant, impeccable. As if nothing had happened, as if that conversation had meant absolutely nothing. As if it hadn't touched me, as if it hadn't… made me uncomfortable.
I push open the café door and the cold air hits my face. I keep walking, one… two… three more steps.
And then… the smile disappears. It falls away, it shatters.
My brow furrows, my lips tighten, and I feel something inside me contract with a for
