When Ethan returned from the study, the sight stopped him at the door. The two of them, asleep together, a half-empty plate of cake on the table-something about it filled him, yet left an ache deep in his chest. He had overheard enough of their earlier conversation to know Axiel was already reaching her in ways he hadn't been able to.
Quietly, he bent down and lifted Axiel into his arms, carrying him to his room. He tucked him in, brushed a gentle kiss on his forehead, and whispered goodnight.
Then he returned to their room. Clara was still asleep on the couch, her hair falling loose around her face. Even in the loose, oversized pajamas she wore, there was no hiding her beauty. Carefully, he slid his arms under her and lifted her, settling her into bed.
For a long moment, he just watched her breathe, the rise and fall of her chest oddly soothing. She looked peaceful like this. He had faith. Faith that somehow, between the walls they had built and the secrets they kept, they could find their way to each other.
He lay down beside her for a while, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sound of her breathing. It should have been comforting. Instead, it made him restless. The space between them felt like a river he couldn't cross.
After what felt like hours, he slipped out of bed and moved to the couch, curling into it with a sigh. The night passed in bits of half-sleep.
When Clara woke up the next morning, she blinked at the empty space beside her, then spotted Ethan, still asleep on the couch, his long frame folded awkwardly. Guilt slid through her. She didn't remember coming to bed at all, only that she and Axiel had fallen asleep together on the couch.
Quietly, she tiptoed to the bathroom, careful not to wake him. She freshened up, brushed her hair, and slipped outside into the garden. The air was fresh and the sun was just beginning to rise. She needed the walk, needed the quiet before the day began.