I was crying so hard I didn’t even hear the door open.
Then suddenly
“Claire?!”
It was Ayman.
I stood up immediately, wiping my tears.
“Ay—Ayman? I… I didn’t hear you come in. I’m sorry.”
He walked toward me without a word. He stood in front of me for a few seconds. I didn’t know where to look, what to say, how to hold myself together.
And then, without warning, he gently brushed the tears from beneath my eyes.
“Oh, I… please, you don’t have to do that,” I said, flustered.
“It doesn’t bother me,” he replied calmly so calmly it disarmed me.
Then he took my hands.
“Claire, I know what you’re feeling right now. And it’s valid. I’m sorry about what happened yesterday. I shouldn’t have…” he added, holding my gaze.
“I’m sorry too. I let myself get carried away,” I admitted softly.
H
