The days that followed were warmer, sunnier, and for Kieran, they felt lighter. He noticed small things about Clara more acutely—the way she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, the faint crease in her forehead when she was concentrating, and the quiet way her laugh filled the spaces around them.
It started with small gestures, almost imperceptible to anyone else but significant to both of them. One morning, Kieran showed up at the café a little earlier than usual, a cup of Clara’s favorite tea already in hand. He set it down in front of her before she even reached the table.
“You got here early,” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“I thought you might like this,” he said, shrugging slightly, though the corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile. “No rush. I just… wanted you to hav
