Chapter 3 Echoes of the Present

The sun had risen gently, bathing Emma's house in golden light. Clara, unable to find sleep, sat on the terrace, her legs tucked against her chest, a steaming cup of coffee cradled in her hands. The aroma of coffee floated in the peaceful air, but her thoughts were anything but calm.

Since arriving, each moment had been colored by a strange mix of nostalgia and unease. Emma's laughter, so genuine, contrasted painfully with the weight of memories she carried. And then there was Lucas. Always Lucas.

Emma joined Clara on the terrace, her radiant smile lighting up the space. She wore a light dress and sandals, a stark contrast to Clara's serious demeanor.

"Already up?" Emma asked, taking a seat next to her. "I thought you'd sleep in after such a long trip."

Clara nodded slightly, sipping her coffee. "I didn't sleep well. Too much on my mind."

Emma placed a comforting hand on Clara's shoulder. "I know coming back isn't easy for you, but I hope you start feeling a bit at home here. After all, it used to be our favorite place. Remember?"

Clara managed a nostalgic smile. Waves of memories from their teenage years returned-afternoons exploring the town, sharing secrets and dreams. Emma had been her anchor in a sea of uncertainties, and Clara had vowed to always be there for her. But now, she felt she was carrying a burden she couldn't share.

"In some ways, it's still home," Clara murmured. "But so much has changed."

Emma clapped her hands, bursting with energy. "Alright, enough of this gloomy talk, Clara! Today is a special day. We have a million things to do before the wedding. I'm counting on you."

Clara raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her expression despite herself. "I'm here, aren't I? You can count on me."

The rest of the morning was a whirlwind of preparations. They spent hours choosing flowers, finalizing menus, and sampling cake designs. Clara followed Emma everywhere, trying to focus on the present moment, but every location seemed to stir up a memory. The bakery where she and Lucas had shared chocolate cake on their first date. The park where they had spent hours talking about their dreams.

As they left a decoration shop, Clara felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out to see a message from Lucas: "We need to talk. Tonight. I won't leave until I get an answer." Her heart clenched.

Emma noticed the change in Clara's expression. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, yes, nothing important," she replied quickly, tucking her phone back into her pocket. But her hands trembled slightly.

That evening, dinner was a mix of laughter and lively conversations, with Emma at the center of attention. Clara, however, felt out of place. She carefully avoided meeting Lucas's gaze, seated across the table from her.

After the meal, as the guests began to disperse, Lucas rose and crossed the room to Clara. She tried to slip away, but he gently placed a hand on her arm.

"Clara, wait."

She turned slowly, her face calm, but her eyes betrayed the storm raging within. "Lucas, I told you-I have nothing to say."

"And I told you I'm not leaving without answers," he replied firmly, though without anger. "Come. We need to talk somewhere private."

She hesitated, glancing at Emma, who was joyfully chatting with other guests. Lucas followed her gaze. "It'll be quick."

Finally, Clara nodded. They walked out in silence, away from the house, until they found a quiet spot in the garden. The stars shone overhead, and the night air felt heavier than it should.

Lucas turned to her. "Why is it so hard for you to talk, Clara? Am I really the only one to blame for what happened?"

"It's not about blame," she replied, looking away. "It's just... complicated."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Everything is complicated, Clara. But if we don't deal with it, it stays that way forever. Is that what you want?"

Clara remained silent, her gaze fixed on the ground. She wanted to say something, but the words seemed caught in her throat. At last, she murmured, "I don't know if talking about it will change anything."

Lucas stepped closer, though maintaining a respectful distance. "It matters to me. Because you still matter to me, Clara."

She looked up at him, her heart pounding furiously. But before she could respond, bursts of laughter from the house interrupted their exchange. Clara took advantage of the distraction, quickly walking away, leaving Lucas alone in the garden.

In the days that followed, Clara continued to juggle the responsibilities of being Emma's friend and the persistent confrontations with Lucas. Each conversation seemed to edge them closer to the moment of revelation, but Clara wasn't ready yet.

The tension heightened during an outing Emma had arranged for the guests-a boat trip. Clara felt the pressure mounting as Lucas subtly found ways to be near her. Each time he spoke to her, his tone was gentle, almost protective, but it only added to the weight she carried.

Emma, meanwhile, seemed unintentionally to act as a matchmaker. She always found reasons to pair Clara and Lucas, blissfully unaware of the underlying turmoil.

As the sun cast its golden light over the landscape, Emma, ever bursting with energy, led the group toward the dock where a small vessel awaited them. The boat trip was Emma's idea, of course-a way to bring everyone together in a charming setting and celebrate before the big day. Clara, though hesitant at first, eventually gave in to her friend's enthusiastic encouragement.

"You're going to love it, I promise! It'll remind us of those summer outings when we were teens," Emma had said, her radiant smile never wavering.

Clara offered a faint smile in return, her mind already preoccupied. She hadn't failed to notice that Lucas was also present, dressed casually yet carrying that same confident air that unnerved her. They would spend the entire afternoon together, confined on the boat. The prospect was far from comforting.

The group boarded the boat, Emma and Pierre leading the charge, followed by friends and family. Clara strategically positioned herself at the back, hoping to blend into the background. But Lucas, true to his persistent nature since her return, seemed determined not to make that easy. He seated himself not far from her, his gaze fixed on the horizon, though Clara felt his presence as a constant shadow.

The boat's engine purred softly, and they drifted away from the dock. The sea breeze brushed their faces, bringing a breath of fresh air that eased the tense atmosphere slightly. Emma's clear laughter rang out as she joked with Pierre, and Clara found some solace in her friend's joy.

"So, Clara, still the quiet one?" Lucas suddenly asked, his voice soft but tinged with a hint of amusement.

Clara slowly turned her head toward him, striving to mask her irritation. "I'm just enjoying the view."

Lucas raised an eyebrow, an enigmatic smile forming on his lips. "I hope I'm not the reason you've been so withdrawn."

Clara sighed, averting her gaze. "You overestimate yourself, Lucas. It's not always about you."

Their exchange didn't escape Emma, who approached, deliberately ignoring the tension between them. "Come on, you two! Enjoy yourselves! Look how beautiful it is here."

Emma handed a glass of juice to Clara and another to Lucas. Then, with a knowing smile, she wandered off to join Pierre, leaving the two former lovers face to face.

As the boat drifted slowly along the river, the silence between them became increasingly oppressive. Clara tried to focus on the beauty of the scenery-the shimmering water, the trees lining the bank, and the birdsong filling the air.

But Lucas seemed to have other plans.

"Clara, you haven't really changed, you know," he said softly, breaking the silence again.

She shot him a surprised look. "And what do you mean by that?"

"You still try to keep everything to yourself. As if carrying it all alone would make things better. But sometimes, sharing what you feel can help."

Clara tensed, her fingers clutching the glass she was holding. "You don't know me anymore, Lucas. So stop pretending you know what's good for me."

Lucas studied her for a moment, his eyes probing for cracks in her defenses. But before he could respond, Emma intervened once more, this time with a suggestion for the group.

"How about a game? Like old times! I'll ask a question, and everyone has to answer."

Light protests and laughter rose among the guests, but Emma's determination won out. "Come on, it'll be fun."

She posed the first question, a harmless classic: "If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be?"

The answers flowed: Paris, the Maldives, New York... When it was Clara's turn, she hesitated.

"Here," she finally said softly. Lucas's surprised gaze unsettled her, and she quickly added, "Not that I don't have places I'd rather be, but here is... peaceful."

The game continued, with light-hearted questions and answers that sparked warm laughter. But Clara remained on edge, keenly aware that Lucas, though amused by the game, was looking at her more often than she'd have liked.

As the boat turned back toward the dock, the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of gold and purple. Emma, still laughing and chatting, seemed perfectly at home, surrounded by those she loved. But for Clara, the day had been exhausting.

Lucas approached her one last time before they disembarked. "Thanks for coming today. It meant a lot to Emma. And... to me as well."

She looked up at him, trying to decipher his intentions. He didn't seem mocking, just sincere. She nodded but didn't reply.

Back at the house, Clara slipped away quietly to find some solitude. Sitting on the windowsill of her room, she gazed at the stars. Lucas's words echoed in her mind. Despite her efforts, he always found a way to infiltrate her thoughts.

Clara sighed, feeling the weight of the past pressing down on her. She knew she couldn't avoid Lucas forever. Sooner or later, she would have to face her own demons. But that day hadn't arrived yet.

The morning after the boat trip, Clara woke with an odd sense of calm mixed with apprehension. She heard the clinking of dishes from the kitchen and got up to join the rest of the house. Upon arrival, she found Emma and Pierre deep in animated conversation while preparing breakfast.

Emma, wearing a floral apron, laughed brightly as Pierre clumsily tried to crack an egg without making a mess. It was a simple but comforting scene, and Clara couldn't help but smile. Seeing Emma so happy eased some of the burden she carried.

"Ah, our guest of honor is finally awake!" Emma exclaimed when she saw Clara enter the kitchen. "Come sit down. We're making pancakes just like old times."

"I see you're hard at work," Clara replied as she sat at the table. "And Pierre, I didn't know you were an aspiring chef."

Pierre burst out laughing. "Chef? You're kidding, right? I'm a walking disaster in the kitchen, but Emma insists we cook together. Apparently, it's part of building a solid relationship."

Emma playfully tapped his shoulder, feigning offense. "And it works, doesn't it? Look at us-we're the perfect team!"

Clara observed their dynamic with a sense of admiration. There was a natural fluidity between them, a chemistry that showed in their every interaction. Pierre made little jokes, Emma responded with laughter, and their mutual affection was palpable. It reminded her how much their relationship had grown over the years.

Emma and Pierre had met a few years after Clara left town. In letters and calls, Emma had recounted to Clara how their story began. Pierre, ever the gentleman, had won Emma's heart with his patience and quiet charm. Together, they had overcome challenges, and their love now seemed unshakable.

"So, Clara," Pierre said, handing her a plate of golden pancakes. "Emma talks about you all the time. She says you're like a sister to her."

Clara smiled softly. "She always exaggerates, but it's true-we're close. I'm glad she found you. You're a great match."

Emma giggled, planting a kiss on Pierre's cheek. "And what about you, Clara? When can I start playing matchmaker for you?"

Clara blushed slightly, avoiding Emma's curious gaze. "No rush. I'm fine as I am."

But Emma wasn't letting go. "Oh, come on! Someone has to make you smile."

Sensing Clara's discomfort, Pierre intervened tactfully. "Emma, let her be. She just got back. Give her a break."

Emma raised her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. But I'm keeping it on my radar."

After breakfast, Emma dragged Clara on an impromptu walk to discuss the final details of the wedding. Pierre stayed behind to handle logistics with the caterer. As they strolled side by side through the streets of their hometown, Clara felt Emma's excitement with every word.

"Pierre is incredible, you know," Emma said, her eyes shining. "He supports me in everything I do. Even when I'm stressed and unbearable, he stays calm. I don't know what I did to deserve someone like him."

Clara nodded with a genuine smile. "He's perfect for you. You can see how much he loves you, even in the little things."

Emma squeezed Clara's hand, a simple but meaningful gesture. "And you, Clara? I really hope you find this kind of love too. You deserve someone who looks at you the way Pierre looks at me."

Clara felt a wave of warmth, but also sadness. She knew Emma wanted the best for her, but love seemed like a distant and complicated notion for Clara at this point in her life. Too many memories, too many scars.

As they continued their walk, Emma shared an anecdote about Pierre that made Clara laugh-a genuine laugh she hadn't had in a long time. In that moment, she remembered why she had come. Not for Lucas, not for confrontations with the past, but for Emma. To honor their friendship and support her happiness.

The day passed quickly, filled with lighthearted conversations and moments of warmth between Emma and Pierre. Though often lost in thought, Clara found comfort in the cozy atmosphere surrounding the couple. That evening, as the group gathered for dinner, Clara watched Emma and Pierre share a tender and knowing glance.

It wasn't just a union of love but a strong and balanced partnership. Clara couldn't help but wonder if she would ever have such a connection with someone. For now, though, she was content to savor her friend's happiness.