That night, Clara's apartment felt much quieter than the bustling outside world, which was abuzz with talk of Sean and Moana.
The living room lights were dim. The faint scent of chamomile tea still lingered in the air. Clara sat on the sofa reading some work documents, trying to take her mind off all the chaos that kept popping up online.
But suddenly, the apartment doorbell rang.
Ding-dong.
Clara froze.
Leo, who was in the kitchen, turned his head quickly. "It's so late. Who is it?"
Clara let out a small sigh. For some reason, she felt as though she already knew the answer.
The woman rose slowly and walked toward the door. And sure enough.
Sean was standing there.
The man was still wearing his usual dark suit. Neat. Expensive. Commanding.
But his face looked far more tired than it had a few weeks ago.
Clara immediately wanted to close the door.
"Clara," Sean stopped her quickly.
"What now?" Clara asked coldly.
