(Clara)
I cried in the subway bathroom.
Not dramatically.
Not the kind of crying people wrote songs about.
There were no heartbreaking speeches.
No emotional breakdowns.
No moment where the entire world suddenly stopped turning.
Instead, I locked myself inside a bathroom stall at a subway station twenty minutes after leaving the coffee shop and stared at the floor while tears slipped down my face because for the first time, the consequences of everything felt real.
Painfully real.
The conversation with Ethan replayed endlessly inside my head.
Every word.
Every silence.
Every look.
Especially the look.
The one he wore when he realized my silence had already given him an answer.
That expression followed me everywhere.
The train ride.
The walk home.
The elevator.
Everywhere
