Clara
Returning to the office after Boston should feel like a return to normalcy. But it isn't. Nothing feels normal. Ever since I walked through the door this morning, everything seems… slightly off. Like the pieces are in place, but they don't quite fit.
"Good morning, Clara," I hear someone say around me.
I respond with an automatic smile, placing my bag on the desk.
I turn on my laptop, check emails… I try to focus. I try, but my mind isn't here. It's on him. On Ethan. On the way he looked at me last night, on how little he said. On how… restrained he was.
I gently press my lips together.
I don't want to think the worst. I don't want to go back to that. To the doubts, the assumptions, the scenarios that only exist in my head. But there's something. And I feel it.
"Clara."
