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,

himself to smile when she walked back in, trying desperately to mask the storm inside

bowl in front of him. He placed a piece of chicken onto

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

herself to smile. “It’s good. Just like

just like

promise.” He added more food to her plate, watching her eat as though her approval was all he needed. But his expression faltered when he took a bite of the ribs

about them was the same anymore. His hands

The space was sparse–just a narrow bed and a desk pushed against the wall. She had cleared

sabus to town tomorrow morning. You can catch it and head to the airport

he stared at her “You really

meeting his eyes. “Goodnight,” she said, walking out and shutting the door behind her. The sound of the door clicking shut felt final, like a

chest was unbeatable,

walked over, besitting as his hand hovered over the draped cloth

shouldn’t He knew that whatever was underneath would

he pulled the cloth away. What be saw inade

not like any of Clara’s work he had seen before. Her once masterful strokes were gone, replaced by uneven

hunds no longer