Chapter 4 The Intertwining of Memories

The next morning, the house awakened softly, bathed in golden light filtering through the curtains. Clara, who had spent a restless night tossing and turning in bed, rose before everyone else. She needed a moment to herself to organize her thoughts-away from Emma's inquisitive gaze, Pierre's tenderness, and, most importantly, Lucas's silent intensity.

Clara decided to go for an early walk. Her hometown, with its cobbled streets and brightly colored shutters, seemed almost unchanged despite the years. However, each corner she turned brought back memories she had tried to forget-the corner bakery where she and Emma bought warm croissants after school, the old bookstore (now closed) where Clara had spent hours thumbing through adventure novels, and, of course, the riverside café where she had sat with Lucas one tranquil afternoon that seemed to belong to another life.

Seated on a bench facing the river, Clara let the calm of the water soothe her. But a voice, all too familiar, interrupted her moment of solace.

"You start avoiding me first thing in the morning, Clara?"

She turned to see Lucas, hands in his pockets, a barely perceptible smile on his lips. How did he always manage to appear just when she sought to avoid him?

"It's not you I'm avoiding, Lucas," she replied, her voice sharper than she'd intended. "Sometimes I just need to be alone."

He sat beside her uninvited. "I understand. But you can't hide forever."

Clara sighed, turning her gaze away. "That's not what I'm doing."

"Really?" he asked, his gaze locking onto hers with persistence.

Silence enveloped them, broken only by the gentle murmur of the water. Clara felt her heartbeat quicken, but she refused to show it. She wanted to maintain control-not yield to the wave of emotions threatening to engulf her.

Meanwhile, back at the house, Emma and Pierre were preparing an informal gathering to bring a few close friends together before the big day. Pierre, ever-organized, oversaw the preparations with quiet efficiency, while Emma handled the decorations with her usual enthusiasm.

"You know, Pierre, I think Clara is a bit lost," Emma confided as she adjusted a bouquet of flowers. "It pains me to see her like this. She was always the one who seemed to know where she was going, but now..."

Pierre placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Maybe coming back here is harder for her than she lets on. But she's strong. With a little support, she'll find her way."

Emma nodded, her gaze briefly distant. She promised herself to talk to Clara later, to remind her she wasn't alone.

Later in the day, the house came alive with the arrival of guests. Laughter and voices filled the rooms, creating a warm atmosphere. Clara, though initially reluctant, found herself blending into the crowd, drawn in by Emma's contagious energy.

While chatting with a group of guests, Clara felt Lucas's presence nearby. He wasn't trying to approach her, but his gaze seemed to follow her every move. It unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

Emma, ever observant, noticed the dynamic. She grabbed Clara's arm and led her to a quiet corner.

"Clara, what's this tension between you and Lucas? You act like strangers, but there's something, isn't there?"

Clara felt her cheeks flush. "It's nothing, Emma. It's just... complicated."

Emma narrowed her eyes, as if trying to read between the lines. "Clara, you know you can tell me anything. If Lucas did anything-"

"No," Clara replied quickly. "It's not that. It's just that there's a lot of history between us. And it's... difficult."

Emma seemed poised to ask more questions, but Pierre interrupted to announce that dinner was ready. Clara seized the distraction like a lifeline.

At dinner, Clara found herself once again seated across from Lucas, as if the universe were conspiring against her. The conversations around the table were light and humorous, but Clara struggled to relax. Each time she looked up, she met Lucas's gaze, and it left her breathless.

Emma, ever the perfect host, did her best to involve everyone in the discussions. She and Pierre shared anecdotes about their meeting, sparking laughter and smiles among the guests.

"And you, Clara," Emma suddenly asked, a mischievous smile on her face. "Tell us something funny from our youth."

Clara started slightly, caught off guard. She searched her memory and eventually recounted an embarrassing but amusing story about a failed biking trip they had taken together. The story elicited laughter from everyone, even Lucas, and for a brief moment, Clara felt lighter.

But as the evening progressed, she couldn't help but notice that Lucas seemed quieter, as if deep in thought. When she caught his gaze again, he offered a faint smile, but his eyes betrayed a certain melancholy.

As the evening drew to a close, and the guests began to leave, Clara, emotionally exhausted, slipped out into the garden for some fresh air. The stars shone brightly above, and the cool night air soothed her troubled mind.

She heard footsteps behind her, and without turning, she knew it was Lucas.

"Still running away?" he asked softly.

Clara closed her eyes briefly before turning to face him. "Not this time."

Lucas seemed surprised by her response, but he remained silent, waiting for her to speak.

Clara took a deep breath, searching for the right words. She wasn't sure if she could explain how she felt, but she knew she couldn't keep ignoring him.

She didn't answer immediately. She stared at an imaginary point on the horizon, as if seeking the strength to continue this conversation she had avoided for so long. Finally, she turned her head toward him, her expression both calm and resolute.

"Alright, Lucas. If you want answers, you'll get them. But listen to me until the end."

Lucas nodded, his gaze filled with apprehension but also hope. He sat on the bench next to her, leaving enough distance between them for her to feel comfortable.

"I left, Lucas, because you broke me," she began, her voice trembling but firm. "You want to know how? Then let me tell you."

She took a deep breath before continuing. "That day..." Her voice faltered slightly before she steadied herself again. "That day, you were supposed to come with Emma and me to that art gallery. She was so excited-do you remember? But at the last minute, you canceled, saying you had work."

Lucas frowned, trying to recall. Clara pressed on, not giving him time to respond.

"Emma was disappointed, but she insisted we go anyway, you supposedly planning to join us later. But after the gallery, I went to the park to get some air before heading home. And that's where I saw you."

Lucas opened his mouth to speak, but Clara raised her hand to stop him.

"No, Lucas. Let me finish. I saw you with another woman. You were... close. Too close. And then you kissed her."

Her voice weakened, but her eyes remained fixed on Lucas. He froze, the shock and guilt clear on his face.

"I didn't understand at the time. I thought I must have been mistaken, that it couldn't have been you. But it was, Lucas. The same man who told me I was his universe, who promised that nothing and no one could ever come between us."

Lucas ran a hand over his face, visibly troubled. "Clara, I... I'm sorry. I didn't know you had seen that."

Clara shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "You're sorry? Really? Is that all you have to say?"

"No, wait." Lucas straightened up, searching for the right words. "Yes, it happened. And I'm not going to make excuses, because there aren't any. But that kiss... it was a mistake. A horrible mistake. That woman... she never meant anything to me."

Clara stared at him, her eyes filled with anger and pain. "A mistake? A mistake, Lucas? Then why were you with her that day? Why give her something you promised to me?"

Lucas seemed on the verge of answering, but he lowered his gaze, unable to meet hers.

"I don't have a good answer," he finally murmured. "I could tell you I was lost, that I was doubting myself, that it wasn't what I really wanted. But none of that justifies what I did. I know I hurt you, Clara. And I regret it every day."

Clara clenched her fists, trying to master the emotions swelling within her. "Lucas, it's not just the kiss. It's the betrayal. You could have talked to me about what you were feeling, about what was wrong. But you chose to lie. And by doing that, you destroyed everything we had built together."

Lucas looked on the verge of tears, but he forced himself to speak. "Clara, I can't change the past, even if I wanted to with all my heart. But if you give me a chance, I'll do everything to fix what I broke."

Clara shook her head, her eyes glistening with tears she refused to shed. "It's not that simple, Lucas. I don't know if I can forgive you for this."

Lucas slowly nodded, respecting her response. But before she could leave, he added: "Clara, I know it's not enough, but I'm sorry. Truly. And no matter what you decide, I want you to know that I've never stopped loving you."

Clara rose, unable to stay a second longer. She walked back toward the house, her heart heavy but slightly lighter than before. She had finally shared part of the burden she had carried for so long. But she knew it was only the beginning, and that she still had a long road ahead of her.

The next morning, the soft light of the sun bathed the house, but Clara wasn't yet ready to face the day. Sitting on the windowsill in her room, she looked out at the garden, letting her thoughts drift. She had spoken to Lucas, revealed part of the truth about why she had left. Only part, the one that involved him and that betrayal in the park. Yet, it hadn't been enough to lighten the weight she bore in her heart.

She knew she now had to speak with Emma. Their friendship deserved the truth. But how would Emma react? She had never known what Clara had discovered that day. And Clara had chosen to run rather than face the consequences of that revelation.

Taking a deep breath, Clara descended the stairs. In the kitchen, Emma was bustling about, surrounded by notes, flowers, and endless lists for the final wedding preparations. Despite her obvious fatigue, her enthusiasm lit up the room.

"Morning, Clara! Sleep well?" Emma asked, looking up at her friend.

Clara forced a smile. "It was alright. You seem busy this morning."

Emma shrugged, her bright smile unwavering. "You know, it's the final stretch. I want everything to be perfect. Pierre deserves that."

Clara observed her friend for a moment, her heart tightening. She couldn't continue hiding the truth. Not with everything she knew.

"Emma, can I talk to you for a moment?" Clara asked, her voice trembling.

Emma frowned slightly, intrigued, but nodded. "Of course. Just a second." She set her notes aside and approached Clara. "What's up? You seem serious."

Clara took a deep breath, searching for her words. "I... There's something I need to tell you. About why I left ten years ago."

Emma looked surprised by the admission but remained attentive. "I'm listening."

Clara sat at the table, Emma taking a seat across from her. For a moment, she hesitated, but she knew she couldn't back out now.

"Do you remember the day Lucas told us he couldn't come to the art gallery because he had work?"

Emma nodded, a faint nostalgic smile on her lips. "Yes, I remember. I was disappointed, but you convinced me to go anyway."

Clara lowered her gaze, her hands trembling slightly. "After the gallery, I went for a walk in the park to get some air. And that's where I saw him."

Emma narrowed her eyes, confused. "Saw who?"

Clara slowly lifted her gaze to meet Emma's, her eyes shining with emotion. "Lucas. I saw him in the park with a woman. They were close, and... he kissed her."

The silence that followed was almost deafening. Emma remained still, her smile fading bit by bit. She blinked, as if trying to process Clara's words.

"You saw Lucas... kiss someone?" she asked softly, her voice trembling slightly.

Clara nodded, unable to say another word. A wave of guilt surged within her, but she knew Emma needed to understand.

Emma shook her head, as if refusing to believe what she'd just heard. "Why didn't you tell me back then, Clara? Why... why did you keep that to yourself?"

Clara lowered her gaze, unable to meet her friend's eyes. "I didn't know what to do. You had a good relationship with Lucas, and I didn't want to destroy that. So, I thought it was better to leave."

Emma remained silent, her eyes fixed on the table. She seemed lost in thought, as if trying to piece together a puzzle.

"And you left because you saw that?" she finally asked, her voice barely audible.

Clara took a deep breath. "Not just that. There was... another reason, but I'm not ready to talk about it. Not yet."

Emma finally lifted her eyes, her features marked by a pain Clara had never wanted to cause. "I... I don't know what to say. Lucas..."

Clara reached out, trying to offer some comfort. "I'm sorry, Emma. I know I should have told you. But I didn't want to hurt you."

Emma took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly. "Clara, I... I need to think about this. I need to talk to Lucas."

Clara nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry for keeping this from you for so long."

Emma rose slowly, her movements almost mechanical. "Thank you for telling me, Clara. I... I'm going to take some time to process this."

She left the room, leaving Clara alone at the table, her heart heavy with regret. She knew this conversation was only a first step, but she hoped their friendship could survive the truth.