Every word from the nurses replayed in her mind until it no longer felt like shock — just confirmation. The next morning, Evan showed up early, coffee in hand, his energy bright and forced. He kissed her cheek lightly. “You look better,” he said. “I’ve missed that smile.”
She didn’t smile. “Where were you last night?” He blinked, caught off guard. “Home. Why?” “I called.” Her voice was calm, too calm. “You didn’t answer.” “Must’ve been asleep,” he said, setting down the coffee. “Long day. What’s wrong?”
She looked at him, studying the careful mask of concern on his face. “Can I see your phone?” He froze. It was so slight that anyone else might have missed it — but she didn’t. “What?” he said, laughing softly. “Why?” “I just want to see it,” she said. Her tone was even, but the tremor in her hand betrayed her.
He sighed, the kind of sigh that came from someone tired of playing a part. “Clara, come on. You really think now’s the time for this?” She didn’t look away. “I think I’ve earned the truth.” The air between them thickened. He hesitated, then set the cup down a little too hard.
“I’ve been under a lot of pressure,” he said finally. “I needed someone to talk to.” “Someone?” “It’s not what you think,” he snapped, though his voice was too defensive to sound convincing. “I just… I can’t keep pretending everything’s okay. I’m exhausted, Clara. I’m drowning too.” She stared at him. “So you found someone else to save you?”
He rubbed his face, groaning. “I didn’t plan this. You don’t get it — I’ve been watching you fade for months. Every time I walk in here, I lose a little more of you. I can’t—” “Then don’t,” she interrupted quietly. “You don’t have to stay.” He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Whatever excuse he was reaching for never came.
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