Chapter 38.
Clara’s Pov.
Dinner smelled warm and soft, like something gentle waiting to hug me.
I sat in the dining, heart tightening while I stared down at the dining table that Maxwell had carefully arranged for us.
His tall frame moved quietly around the place as he placed every plate on the dining, urging me to sit still while he carried out everything.
My eyes followed every plate, taking note of every food that he had single-handedly made. Steamed potatoes, grilled chicken, and a small bowl of fruit beside it.
My chest tightened, not from pain, but from a quiet kind of guilt that I couldn’t push away.
My eyes moved around, quietly watching the candles that he had set up in the middle of the glass table, their soft flames dancing with every move he made closer.
My heart flutt
