The Things Left Unsaid
Clara avoided Ethan for the next two days, spending most of her time with Mandaline. The older woman was recovering quickly, though she seemed to sense the tension in the air.
"Ethan's been restless," Mandaline said one morning. "He paces at night. He misses you."
Clara smiled faintly. "He has a strange way of showing it."
Before Mandaline could reply, Isabella appeared in the doorway. "Ethan asked me to bring these reports for him," she said, setting a folder on the desk. "He's in the study if you're looking for him."
Clara stiffened but said nothing.
After Isabella left, Mandaline gave her a long look. "Don't let her come between you two, Clara."
Clara's voice was quiet. "She already has."
That evening, Clara went downstairs to get some tea. As she passed the study, she heard voices again—Ethan's and Isabella's.
"…you shouldn't be here this late," Ethan said.
"You didn't seem to mind last time," Isabella replied softly.
Clara froze.
Her breath came uneven. She pressed her back against the wall, straining to listen.
"I was angry," Ethan said, his tone strained. "You knew what you were doing, calling the press."
"I only wanted to remind you of what we had," Isabella whispered.
"I told you, that's over."
"Then why are you trembling?"
Clara didn't hear his answer. Her heart was pounding too loud to catch it. She turned and walked away quickly, her steps silent but her mind screaming.
When Ethan left the study later, he found her room empty again.