Chapter 1 The Return

It had been ten years since Clara last set foot in her hometown-ten years of silence, distance, and buried memories she was unwilling to awaken. Yet, there she was, standing before the grand house of her childhood. The wrought-iron gate remained unchanged, and the intoxicating scent of bougainvillea lingered in the air. Clara adjusted her bag's strap and took a deep breath. She needed to face it, to summon the courage for this return.

I'm here for Emma, nothing else, she murmured to herself, as if trying to convince her own heart.

Emma, her childhood best friend, had begged her to come to her wedding. Clara hadn't had the strength to say no. She couldn't turn her back on Emma-not after everything her friend had done for her in the past. But with every step toward the house, Clara felt her heart grow heavier.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and a familiar figure appeared.

"Clara?! You're finally here!" Emma threw herself at her, arms wide for an embrace. Her radiant smile was contagious, and for the first time in days, Clara felt a faint glimmer of lightness.

"Emma, I'm so happy to see you," Clara replied, a shy smile gracing her lips.

But the moment of happiness was fleeting. When Clara lifted her gaze, her breath caught. He was there. Lucas. Him. Leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on her with an intensity that unsettled her. Ten years. Ten long years without seeing him, without hearing his voice. And yet, there he was, more mature, more commanding, but still unmistakably... him.

"Clara..." His voice was like a wave of memories, crashing through the fragile barrier she had built around her heart. She immediately averted her eyes, unable to withstand his gaze.

Emma, of course, didn't seem to notice the tension thickening in the air. She continued enthusiastically talking about her wedding, her plans, her dress... but Clara heard none of it. Her mind was elsewhere, stuck on Lucas-on this moment she had dreaded so deeply. Why does it have to be him? Why now?

Clara followed Emma into the house, her shoes clicking softly against the marble floor she remembered so well. The walls were still the same creamy hue, but the decorations had changed. Everything was elegant, orderly, perfect-a reflection of Emma's well-structured life. Clara placed her bag on a chair, attempting to relax, but her eyes instinctively searched for Lucas. She hadn't yet gathered the strength to truly face him.

"Sit down, rest! You must be tired from the journey," Emma said, handing her a glass of juice. Clara accepted it with a smile, though she wasn't really hungry or thirsty. The weight of her return was too overwhelming for her to feel anything else.

She sipped the juice in silence while Emma kept talking. "You wouldn't believe how excited everyone is about this wedding! Pierre and I planned everything-it's a dream come true. You'll see, the celebration will be stunning. Oh, you must meet my family too!"

Clara nodded, trying to appear engaged. But she could still feel it-that presence, that shadow in the room. Lucas wasn't far; she knew it. Her hand trembled slightly as she placed the glass on the table. The past was surging back like a brutal, unbearable gust of wind.

"Clara, look who's here!" Emma exclaimed, as if reading her thoughts.

Lucas stepped into the room, his gaze locked on Clara, still just as intense. Her heartbeat quickened, and a strange warmth coursed through her body. But she couldn't allow herself to succumb to that weakness. Not yet.

Lucas approached slowly. "It's been a long time, Clara."

His voice was deep, tinged with emotion. But Clara refused to fall into this trap. She abruptly stood, flashing a strained smile at Emma.

"I think I need some air. The journey has worn me out," she said.

"I'm stepping out for a moment."

Clara left the room before Emma or Lucas could say a word. She strode quickly into the garden, finally pausing to breathe. The fragrance of the flowers was calming, but her mind remained restless. Why did I agree to come here? she wondered. The thought of seeing Lucas again was unbearable, yet she knew she couldn't avoid him forever.

Clara stayed in the garden for a while, observing the flowers swaying gently in the breeze. She hoped Lucas wouldn't follow her, that he'd understand her need for solitude. But the sound of footsteps behind her dashed that hope.

"Are you planning to avoid me all weekend, Clara?" Lucas asked as he approached.

She turned slowly, her gaze locked on him. He had changed, yes, but not enough to erase the pain. "I'm not avoiding you, Lucas. I simply prefer not to have this conversation."

He frowned, crossing his arms. "What conversation? The one we've dodged for ten years? The one where you tell me why you disappeared overnight without a word?"

Clara felt her throat tighten. She didn't want to dredge up the past-not now, and especially not with him. "This isn't the time or the place. Emma is getting married, and I'm here for her."

Lucas let out a bitter laugh. "Of course, it's always for Emma. And me, Clara? Where do I fit into all this?"

Before she could answer, Emma appeared, running toward them and cutting their exchange short. "Lucas, don't be hard on Clara. She just got here. Clara, come on, you have to meet my family!"

Clara seized the escape route and followed Emma back inside, leaving Lucas behind. But she knew this conversation wasn't over-it was merely postponed. Her heart continued to beat erratically, the tension piling up.

Inside, the house buzzed with voices and activity. Emma introduced Clara to her parents, Pierre (her fiancé), and a few close guests. Clara tried to keep a smile on her face, but every time she felt Lucas's gaze on her, her focus wavered.

"Clara! You have to tell Pierre how incredible you are as a friend. She was there for me in my darkest times, Pierre. Without Clara, I wouldn't be here today," Emma declared, visibly emotional.

Pierre smiled at Clara. "Emma talks about you all the time. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Clara nodded, replying politely, though her thoughts were elsewhere. She sensed Lucas drawing near, and her heart began to race. When Emma and Pierre wandered off to chat with another guest, Lucas seized the opportunity.

"So, Clara, are you planning to keep pretending?" he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.

Clara turned to face him, her eyes filled with defiance. "I'm not pretending. I'm here for Emma. Nothing more."

"Nothing more?" Lucas echoed, incredulous. "You can say that as often as you want, but I know you, Clara. Coming back here isn't 'nothing.' Not after everything that happened."

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I don't have time for this kind of discussion, Lucas."

Lucas shook his head. "You'll have all the time in the world. I won't let you leave this time without answers."

Once more, Clara left Lucas, retreating to Emma to hide within the wedding's bustle. But she knew this encounter was only the beginning. The wounds hadn't healed, and the past would catch up to her no matter how hard she tried to outrun it.