Clara's fists clenched at her sides, her heart pounding with a mix of frustration and pain. Ronald stood just inside the doorway, his brow furrowed with concern, but Clara could barely see that through the haze of her anger.
“I’m fine!” she shouted, her voice echoing off the walls. “I don’t need your help, Ronald! I don’t need you checking in on me like I’m some fragile thing that’s about to break!” Ronald opened his mouth to respond, but Clara cut him off, her voice rising even higher.
“You think you can just waltz in here and fix everything with your stupid platitudes and empty gestures? Well, guess what? It doesn’t work that way! If you really cared, then why am I still standing here, feeling like this?”
She gestured wildly around the room, as if the very walls were witnesses to her
