And that... It weighs in.
"What things, Clara?" he asks.
Now his voice is firmer, more direct. More... needy.
I look at him for a second longer... And I feel how my mind begins to order everything I should say.
But it doesn't come out, not yet. Because if I speak... I have to say everything.
And I don't know if this is the time, I don't know if he's ready. I don't know if I am.
I swallow hard.
"Ethan," I begin.
But I stop, he notices. Of course he notices... He always does.
His eyes don't leave mine, as if he's trying to read what I'm not saying.
"It's not just the trip—is it?" he says.
It's not a question, it's a conclusion. And that... it forces me to react.
I take a deep breath.
"No."
My fingers intertwine without me noticing, as if they need to hold on to something.
"The
