Your Love Is But a Dream

and sat down that he realized why: she had no

Chapter 97

Watching as Clara walked out with a plate of pasta for someone else, Wren felt his heart sink into a pit of bitterness. She used to do these little things for him bringing him cofler during his late nights, cooking meals when he worked himself to exhaustion. But now, her kindness was reserved for someone else.

So this was what it felt like, be thought, watching the person you loved pour their care into someone else. The ache clawed at his chest, and his jealousy bubbled so Bercely that it bordered on madness

And then it hit him- how had she felt all those times he and lvy had flaunted their relationship right in front of her, acting as though she didn’t exist—as though

her feelings didn’t matter?

s his own

own.daling

The realizationtere at him. The pain die felt now was

Clara tumed not long after, not lingering with that man for more than a few ininutes. Not even those brief moments had dragged on for Wren, each second stretching like anetemity,

in, trying desperately to mask the storm inside

in front of him. He placed a piece of chicken onto her plate, his eyes searching hers.” You used to love my chipotle chicken. Try

the piece of chicken and chewed slowly. It lasted overly sweet and had a strange, bitter aftertaste. It was not at all like what she remembered. The last time Wren had made this dish for her was years ago, long before Ivy came into the picture. Back then, it had been perfect

forcing herself to smile. “It’s

tender, just like his

“I’m glad you like it. I’ll make it for you more often, I promise.” He added more food to her plate, watching her eat as though her approval was all he needed.

them was the same anymore.

dinner, Clara showed him to the small room she used as a study. The space was sparse–just a narrow bed and a desk pushed

“Their sabus to town tomorrow morning. You can

that tightened as he stared at her “You really want me

walking out and shutting the door behind her. The sound of the door clicking shut

in his chest was unbeatable, but when his eyes wandered, they landed on

walked over, besitting as his hand

underneath would

cloth away. What be

like any of Clara’s work he had seen before. Her once

by someone whose hunds no longer