(Ethan)
The message arrived at 11:47 p.m.
I knew the exact time because I had looked at my phone far more times than any normal person should.
Not because I expected Clara to reply immediately.
Because waiting had become a habit.
A terrible habit.
The kind that slowly took over your life without permission.
Every vibration made me look.
Every notification made me hope.
Every unanswered message made me wonder if I had already lost something I wasn’t ready to let go of.
So when my phone finally lit up with Clara’s name, I saw it immediately.
Clara: Coffee sounds nice.
For several seconds, I simply stared at the screen.
Then I read the message again.
And again.
Not because it was complicated.
Because it wasn’t.
Three ordinary words.
A simple response.
Yet somehow those thre
