Chương 4
One evening, she found him in the kitchen attempting to make coffee.
The attempt was going badly.
The machine was open.
A spoon was on the floor.
The counter was covered with coffee grounds.
Clara stood in the doorway.
“Are you fighting with the machine?”
Sebastian looked over.
“I am winning.”
She looked at the disaster around him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Because from here, it looks like the machine has control of the situation.”
For a second, he looked offended.
Then he laughed.
It was unexpected.
Not the polite laugh he gave at business meetings.
A real one.
Clara stopped smiling because she realized she had never heard it before.
Sebastian noticed her expression.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring.”
“I just didn’t know you could laugh.”
His smile faded slightly.
“I used to.”
The answer carried more weight than the moment needed.
Clara immediately regretted pushing.
But Sebastian did not leave.
He simply cleaned the mess beside her.
Two people who had been strangers a month earlier stood in a quiet kitchen fixing coffee they did not need.
It should have felt ordinary.
Instead, it felt important.
Because ordinary was something Sebastian had forgotten how to have.
The peace did not last forever.
It rarely did.
A week later, Clara received a message from her father.
She saw his name on the screen and immediately felt the old tension return to her chest.
She had not spoken to him since the wedding.
Not because she hated him.
That would have been easier.
She still loved him.
That was the problem.
The message was short.
Please call me.
She stared at it for several minutes.
Sebastian found her sitting on the balcony.
“You don’t have to answer.”
She looked surprised.
“You knew?”
“You’ve been looking at your phone like it insulted you.”
Despite herself, she laughed softly.
Then the sadness returned.
“He wants to talk.”
“Do you want to?”
“I don’t know.”
Sebastian sat across from her.
A few months earlier, he would have told her what to do.
Now he waited.
That was another change she noticed.
“You think I should forgive him?” she asked.
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
She looked at him.
“No?”
“No.”
Sebastian looked toward the garden.
“Forgiving someone doesn’t mean pretending they didn’t hurt you.”
Clara was quiet.
“You sound like you’ve thought about this.”
“I have.”
“About who?”
He did not answer.
She understood that she had reached a locked door.
Not every door needed to be opened immediately.
That was something she was learning.
When Clara finally called her father, she did not invite him back into her life.
Not completely.
She listened.
She allowed him to apologize.
She told him she was angry.
She told him she was hurt.
She told him that loving him did not erase what he had done.
Luis cried.
Clara hated hearing it.
Part of her wanted to comfort him.
Another part wanted him to sit with the pain he had caused.
After the call, she sat alone in the bedroom.
Sebastian found her there.
“How was it?”
She looked exhausted.
“Hard.”
He nodded.
“That’s usually how honest conversations are.”
She looked at him.
“You’re surprisingly wise sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
“Don’t get used to it.”
A small smile appeared.
But then Sebastian noticed something.
“You’re crying.”
Clara quickly wiped her face.
“I’m fine.”
He almost smiled.
“You’re terrible at lying too.”
She looked away.
“I just wish he had chosen differently.”
Sebastian sat beside her.
Not too close.
Not far away.
“I know.”
The simple answer meant more than advice would have.
Because for once, he was not trying to fix her pain.
He was just staying with her.
That night changed something between them.
Not dramatically.
Not like the stories people told online.
There was no sudden confession.
No perfect moment.
Only two damaged people sitting in the same room and realizing they were less alone than before.
But outside their home, someone was watching.
Someone who did not want Sebastian to become different.
The articles began appearing again.
At first, they were harmless.
Questions about the marriage.
Questions about Clara’s intentions.
Then the accusations became sharper.
A financial journalist published a story suggesting Clara’s father’s debt had been erased under suspicious circumstances.
The article did not accuse Sebastian directly.
It did not need to.
The implication was enough.
People began asking whether Clara had manipulated a vulnerable billionaire.
Whether the marriage was a secret arrangement.
Whether Sebastian had been fooled.
The story spread quickly.
Clara found out when employees started acting differently around her.
Conversations stopped when she entered rooms.
People who had previously smiled became careful.
She hated that feeling.
Not because strangers judged her.
Because she had lived through it before.
She knew what it felt like to become a person others discussed instead of someone they spoke to.
Sebastian reacted differently.
He became colder.
The old version of him returned.
The version who solved problems by shutting everyone out.
He canceled meetings.
He stopped eating with her.
He worked late into the night.
Clara watched the distance return and felt something inside her break.
One night, she found him in his office surrounded by documents.
“You’re avoiding me.”
Sebastian did not look up.
“I’m busy.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the truth.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“The truth is you’re scared.”
His hand stopped moving.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know exactly what I’m talking about.”
He finally looked at her.
His eyes were tired.
“Clara, please.”
The way he said her name made her stop.
Not angry.
Not cold.
Afraid.
“I spent years becoming someone nobody could hurt,” he said quietly.
She waited.
“And now you’re the one person who can.”
The honesty surprised both of them.
Sebastian looked away immediately.
As if he regretted giving her that piece of himself.
Clara lowered her voice.
“Then stop pushing me away before I get the chance.”
His expression tightened.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
May you like
He said nothing.
Because the explanation was buried too deep.
