LETS TALK NOW
845 Words
Clara’s POV
How did I get here? What happened last night?
The last thing I remembered was sitting in the movie room with Benny, laughing, feeling light and safe.
I turned my head slowly.
There was no one on the bed with me, but the sheets were rumpled like someone had slept there.
The villa was quiet, and I had a lingering sense that something had happened last night, something important.
Even if I couldn’t remember it yet.
It took more effort than usual to get out of bed. My body felt slow and my thoughts slower. I showered, changed into something simple, and tried not to overthink the dull buzzing at the back of my mind.
Downstairs, the dining room was empty.
There wasn't anyone at the table, then I heard the sound of running water and utensils clinking together from a little distance.
I hesitated, then followed the faint sound of movement toward the kitchen.
I found Adrian there.
He stood by the counter, sleeves rolled slightly, one hand braced against the marble as the coffee machine hissed softly. His hair looked undone like he had just gotten up from bed and ran his fingers through it.
My stomach did that annoying flip like it had a thousand butterflies in it.
“Good morning,” I said.
He turned.
“Morning, Clara.”
His voice was softer than usual. Not warm exactly, but not sharp either. It had no edge, and it caught me off guard.
“You sleep alright?” he asked.
“Yes. I think so.” I paused, then frowned slightly. “Actually… did you take me to bed last night?”
“No,” he said immediately.
I blinked. “No?”
“I didn’t take you to your room last night,” he added, with a calm and certain tone.
“Oh.” I shifted my weight. “Because I don’t remember how I got there.”
“You were tired,” he said. “And drunk.”
Something about how smoothly he said it made my chest tighten.
“Oh,” I repeated.
The machine beeped. He poured the coffee into a cup, then slid it toward me.
“Drink,” he said as a matter of fact. “You’ll need caffeine if you overdid the wine.”
I accepted it automatically. “Thank you.”
Our fingers brushed for half a second.
He stepped back first.
“We’ll need to talk later today,” he said, turning away. “Come to my office by five.”
My brows lifted. “Is this about work, Sir?”
“Yes.”
His tone was neutral again. The softness folded neatly away.
“Okay,” I said. “Five.”
He nodded once, then left the kitchen without another word.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the doorway, coffee warming my palms.
You imagined the softness, I told myself.
But I hadn’t.
The day passed strangely gently.
I tried to keep busy, helping where I could around the house, wandering where I wasn’t sure I should. At some point, I found the library the butler had shown us during the tour, tucked away like a secret meant to be forgotten.
Sunlight streamed in through tall windows. The shelves smelled like old paper and quiet.
I picked a book at random. It was an erotica. I could see that from the cover photo.
And then I forgot time existed.
I read for hours, curled up in an armchair, coffee long gone cold. The story made me feel full in a way I hadn’t realized I’d been empty.
At some point, my thoughts drifted, to Adrian.
The way he’d looked this morning. Relaxed and real.
The way his voice hadn’t cut when he spoke to me.
The way he’d handed me coffee felt like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I smiled to myself, then quickly frowned.
Get a grip, Clara.
Still, the fondness lingered.
A shadow fell across the page I was reading.
“Why are you an hour late?”
I jumped, nearly dropping the book.
Adrian stood in front of me, posture straight, expression unreadable.
“Late?” I echoed.
“I told you to meet me in my office by five, Ms Lane,” he said.
“I—” I glanced at my phone.
6:03 PM.
“Oh my God,” I breathed. “I’m so sorry. I lost track of time, sir.”
He watched me closely for a second.
Then he sighed quietly, like he was trying to control himself.
“Come,” he said. “Let's talk now.”
I stood quickly, heart racing, guilt twisting in my stomach for forgetting.
“I really am sorry,” I said again.
“I know,” he replied, already walking toward the door.
That softness flickered again.
I followed him down the hallway toward his office, my mind racing, my heart unsettled.
Because whatever had happened last night, whatever I couldn’t remember…
I was suddenly very sure it wasn’t over.
- Writer
