The days following Lena and Jace's decision to move forward felt like they were walking on a fragile tightrope. Each day was a careful balancing act of keeping their feelings for each other in check while also trying to mend the rift with Clara. It was exhausting, but it was the only way forward, or so Lena told herself.
One afternoon, as spring turned into summer, Lena found herself in the kitchen, preparing lunch when Clara unexpectedly walked in. The tension that had hung in the air for weeks seemed to freeze in that moment. Lena's heart skipped a beat as Clara stood in the doorway, arms crossed and expression unreadable.
"I want to talk," Clara said quietly, her voice lacking its usual cheerfulness.
Lena wiped her hands on a dish towel and turned to face her. "Clara, I—"
"No," Clara interrupted, holding up a hand. "Let me speak."
Lena nodded, heart pounding.
Clara stepped into the room, eyes locking with hers. "I've been thinking about everything. And I don't like it. I don't like how things are between us now, Lena. It feels like everything we had—everything I thought was normal—is gone. But I also realize something." She paused, searching for the right words. "I can't keep holding on to my anger. I don't want to lose you, Lena. Not like this."
Lena's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't expected Clara to say anything like this, not after everything. "Clara, I'm so sorry for hurting you. I never wanted to... I never wanted it to be like this."
"I know," Clara said, her voice softening. "But I also know that I can't control your feelings. I can't tell you who to love or who not to love." She hesitated, as if the words were difficult to say. "I can't promise that things will go back to the way they were. But I'm willing to try. For us to figure out how to move forward."
Lena felt a rush of emotion—the guilt, the relief, the hope—and for the first time in weeks, she felt like a weight was being lifted from her shoulders.
"Thank you," Lena whispered, unable to say more.
Clara nodded, though her gaze shifted to the side, like she wasn't entirely convinced herself. "I'm still trying to process it all. But... I don't want to lose you, Lena. You're my sister."
The silence between them felt different now—less heavy. It was as though they were both standing at the edge of something new, something uncharted. It wasn't perfect, but it was a start.
Later that evening, after the awkwardness had settled and they had eaten dinner together, Clara came up to Lena's room.
"I know it's not easy," Clara said, sitting beside Lena on the bed. "But I want to make it work. I want to try to get through this."
Lena nodded. "I do, too. I don't want this to be the end of us."
"I don't think it is," Clara said, her voice filled with a quiet certainty. "But it'll take time."
And Lena knew she was right. Time. That's all they could really ask for now.
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