CLARA“If you missed me that much, you could’ve just called.”That was Lucas. His text from this morning. I rolled my eyes the second I read it, tossed my phone on the bed, and went about getting ready for work. I was running late—thanks to pressing snooze too many times—but I didn’t let it ruin my mood.Lucas was suffering, and that immediately equaled to a good mood for me.The kids were already settled when I walked into class, their chatter filling the air like a radio with too many stations on at once. I gave a quick apology for being late, got them quiet, and dove straight into the day’s lesson.It didn't take me long to notice something—or rather, someone—was missing.Connie.The seat by the window, his usual spot, was empty. No bag. No jacket. Just sunlight pooling across the chair, trying to fill his absence. My stomach flipped—not in a good way. The kind of flip that you got when you had to do something you would rather not.Like text Lucas.Knowing him, that one text would
LUCASIt did not take long for me to figure out what actually happened that night. Ella took those photos to send to Clara, probably to get her jealous… Clara ended up sending it out to blogs, definitely to ruin my chances in the election.When I had gotten a clue, I grilled Ella until she actually confessed. What Clara did quite understand was that it was going to take a lot more than that to actually cause real damages. I wouldn't hurt her; instead I dished a little threat to her dear father, half-expecting her to come to me because of it.Try to talk me out of ruining her father's reputation, maybe?Unless… I couldn't actually do that. I knew about his scandal with those women, but I did not have enough proof. Not enough to actually tarnish his reputation. If I did, I would have released them long ago to get him off my fucking back.Raphael had not asked for proof, I was just so detailed about the affairs, and after sending a small clip, he immediately believed I had enough. And
LUCASI was minutes early, sitting at the far end of Gilles Café, my fingers drumming against the polished wood of the table as I waited. I had specifically picked the quietest corner in the entire space with low lights, little noise and no nosy cameras. Just enough privacy for us to talk properly.Clara arrived almost thirty minutes later, breathless but glowing, still. I watched her walk in, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, eyes scanning the room. She looked flustered—as if she had run half the way here. Still, she looked perfect.Her blonde hair was secured in a semi-messy bun with a few strands falling around her face, and the only makeup she had on her face was a glossy, red lipstick. Her yellow sundress hugged her body like it was made for that exact reason, stopping just above her knees. The neckline was modest, but those breasts of hers just knew how to pull attention no matter what.Had me looking around in case there was any other man looking at her that I had
CLARALucas's entire house still looked the same. Grand, towering, confident—much like him. The sleek black gate had opened without question the moment my car got near, like it remembered me. I gritted my teeth when I got out of my car and started walking to the door, hating that I did not feel the least bit out of place as I approached the house.I could not believe I had once thought forever was once possible here. I had laid out our future—crafted spaces in my head for our children… we wanted to have just two. This was the house where I learned what it meant to love stupidly, blindly. The same house that I would have had my bones under, if dad had not come at the right time.I shouldn't be here. Yet I was, standing on the same damn welcome mat. Not exactly the sane one, but… you get my point.I took a deep breath now, my hand literally shaking as I rang Lucas's doorbell. Almost like I feared that the man was going to eat me alive. Well, he might, actually.A week ago, I had agre
CLARAConnie had just been pretending to be a bit nice all this while. He was a terror to teach.I should have not been so surprised, given that his very first words to me when I walked into the lesson room which was set aside for us was,"I don't want this lesson. You should leave."I ignored him and went ahead with it. Connie has never been nice since the first day. He barely listened to me. He watched me sometimes like he was starting to remember who I was, and other times, he played a prank.These pranks were mostly harmless though. Sometimes, he would change the time on the clock (I started bringing a watch), or he would make me jump by interrupting the lesson with one of his squeaky toys, or he would catch a disgusting insect and let it chase me (that happened once, and would have been my last straw, but I just emailed Lucas about it and continued).The pay I was going to get from this was huge, and most importantly, I had to uncover a few things in his house. I was not going
LUCAS"Clara?" I called out again, almost tripping over my own feet in a bid to reach them in time. "Fuck." I cussed under my breath when the first sight I saw was Connie stained with blood—face and arms. A drop even went on to stain the front of his shirt while I watched.I was by his side in a split second, not expecting him to point at Clara and accuse with a shaky voice,"It was her. She had never liked me and I don't know why." He burst out crying, causing me to turn to Clara who had a host of emotions all over her face in that moment. She shook her head no at once,"Lucas, no. That kid is such a liar, I can explain what happened to you. Let me explain—"But I cut her off, "No, no fuck that. Fuck that explanation and answer me this one thing Clara; did you do this? Be very honest.""I did… I don't… I can explain what happened Lucas! He was—" She tried to rush through an explanation but I had lost it already.My fist slammed against the table, causing both of them to jump. But I
CLARAIt doesn't look like you are. I thought to myself, not saying it out loud.And then I did not speak again as Lucas carried me toward his room like I weighed nothing. My body was stiff in the chair, with my heart beating way too fast for someone who was pretending not to care. His scent filled my nostrils, almost dissolving a fraction of the rage I felt.I stared at his face—the face I used to love waking up next to.But he didn't look at me again after that apology. I didn't care. At least I wanted to believe that I didn't.When we reached his room, he kicked the door open and carried me in. The moment I saw the bed, every nerve in my body tensed and memories flooded my head.He set the chair down in the middle of the room and finally glanced at me. I could not get over that knowing look in his eyes.“This might hurt a little,” he murmured, crouching beside me.“Just get it over with,” I muttered back with a flat tone.I heard him sigh. Then he reached for the side of the cha
CLARA“Connie! Can you give it back?” I gasped, reaching for my purse. The sudden movement pulled at my chest, making my heart pound erratically. I gripped the chair for support, cursing under my breath. Damn heart issues…Connie only grinned, throwing my Chanel purse behind him when I tried to reach for it again. “Why don’t you just go away, sicko? You’re an ugly witch with ugly hair!”I forced a nervous laugh as Connie yanked my hair, glancing around the school hall for some help but none came. The only reason I was here was because my fiancé, Lucas, had asked that we attend the parent-child event for his eight-year-old nephew, Connie, as his parents. His biological parents passed away three years ago. From here, we could go try on wedding dresses, which I was excited for.But as Connie’s tantrum dragged on, I refused to let him ruin today. Even when he kept pinching my arms discreetly, running back whenever I reached for him. Before I could actually lose my mind, Lucas finally a
CLARAIt doesn't look like you are. I thought to myself, not saying it out loud.And then I did not speak again as Lucas carried me toward his room like I weighed nothing. My body was stiff in the chair, with my heart beating way too fast for someone who was pretending not to care. His scent filled my nostrils, almost dissolving a fraction of the rage I felt.I stared at his face—the face I used to love waking up next to.But he didn't look at me again after that apology. I didn't care. At least I wanted to believe that I didn't.When we reached his room, he kicked the door open and carried me in. The moment I saw the bed, every nerve in my body tensed and memories flooded my head.He set the chair down in the middle of the room and finally glanced at me. I could not get over that knowing look in his eyes.“This might hurt a little,” he murmured, crouching beside me.“Just get it over with,” I muttered back with a flat tone.I heard him sigh. Then he reached for the side of the cha
LUCAS"Clara?" I called out again, almost tripping over my own feet in a bid to reach them in time. "Fuck." I cussed under my breath when the first sight I saw was Connie stained with blood—face and arms. A drop even went on to stain the front of his shirt while I watched.I was by his side in a split second, not expecting him to point at Clara and accuse with a shaky voice,"It was her. She had never liked me and I don't know why." He burst out crying, causing me to turn to Clara who had a host of emotions all over her face in that moment. She shook her head no at once,"Lucas, no. That kid is such a liar, I can explain what happened to you. Let me explain—"But I cut her off, "No, no fuck that. Fuck that explanation and answer me this one thing Clara; did you do this? Be very honest.""I did… I don't… I can explain what happened Lucas! He was—" She tried to rush through an explanation but I had lost it already.My fist slammed against the table, causing both of them to jump. But I
CLARAConnie had just been pretending to be a bit nice all this while. He was a terror to teach.I should have not been so surprised, given that his very first words to me when I walked into the lesson room which was set aside for us was,"I don't want this lesson. You should leave."I ignored him and went ahead with it. Connie has never been nice since the first day. He barely listened to me. He watched me sometimes like he was starting to remember who I was, and other times, he played a prank.These pranks were mostly harmless though. Sometimes, he would change the time on the clock (I started bringing a watch), or he would make me jump by interrupting the lesson with one of his squeaky toys, or he would catch a disgusting insect and let it chase me (that happened once, and would have been my last straw, but I just emailed Lucas about it and continued).The pay I was going to get from this was huge, and most importantly, I had to uncover a few things in his house. I was not going
CLARALucas's entire house still looked the same. Grand, towering, confident—much like him. The sleek black gate had opened without question the moment my car got near, like it remembered me. I gritted my teeth when I got out of my car and started walking to the door, hating that I did not feel the least bit out of place as I approached the house.I could not believe I had once thought forever was once possible here. I had laid out our future—crafted spaces in my head for our children… we wanted to have just two. This was the house where I learned what it meant to love stupidly, blindly. The same house that I would have had my bones under, if dad had not come at the right time.I shouldn't be here. Yet I was, standing on the same damn welcome mat. Not exactly the sane one, but… you get my point.I took a deep breath now, my hand literally shaking as I rang Lucas's doorbell. Almost like I feared that the man was going to eat me alive. Well, he might, actually.A week ago, I had agre
LUCASI was minutes early, sitting at the far end of Gilles Café, my fingers drumming against the polished wood of the table as I waited. I had specifically picked the quietest corner in the entire space with low lights, little noise and no nosy cameras. Just enough privacy for us to talk properly.Clara arrived almost thirty minutes later, breathless but glowing, still. I watched her walk in, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, eyes scanning the room. She looked flustered—as if she had run half the way here. Still, she looked perfect.Her blonde hair was secured in a semi-messy bun with a few strands falling around her face, and the only makeup she had on her face was a glossy, red lipstick. Her yellow sundress hugged her body like it was made for that exact reason, stopping just above her knees. The neckline was modest, but those breasts of hers just knew how to pull attention no matter what.Had me looking around in case there was any other man looking at her that I had
LUCASIt did not take long for me to figure out what actually happened that night. Ella took those photos to send to Clara, probably to get her jealous… Clara ended up sending it out to blogs, definitely to ruin my chances in the election.When I had gotten a clue, I grilled Ella until she actually confessed. What Clara did quite understand was that it was going to take a lot more than that to actually cause real damages. I wouldn't hurt her; instead I dished a little threat to her dear father, half-expecting her to come to me because of it.Try to talk me out of ruining her father's reputation, maybe?Unless… I couldn't actually do that. I knew about his scandal with those women, but I did not have enough proof. Not enough to actually tarnish his reputation. If I did, I would have released them long ago to get him off my fucking back.Raphael had not asked for proof, I was just so detailed about the affairs, and after sending a small clip, he immediately believed I had enough. And
CLARA“If you missed me that much, you could’ve just called.”That was Lucas. His text from this morning. I rolled my eyes the second I read it, tossed my phone on the bed, and went about getting ready for work. I was running late—thanks to pressing snooze too many times—but I didn’t let it ruin my mood.Lucas was suffering, and that immediately equaled to a good mood for me.The kids were already settled when I walked into class, their chatter filling the air like a radio with too many stations on at once. I gave a quick apology for being late, got them quiet, and dove straight into the day’s lesson.It didn't take me long to notice something—or rather, someone—was missing.Connie.The seat by the window, his usual spot, was empty. No bag. No jacket. Just sunlight pooling across the chair, trying to fill his absence. My stomach flipped—not in a good way. The kind of flip that you got when you had to do something you would rather not.Like text Lucas.Knowing him, that one text would
CLARAThe class was quiet, sunlight passing through the dusty blinds, casting soft rays across the rows of little heads bent over their notebooks.I walked between the desks slowly, a smile playing on my lips as I looked down at messy handwriting and crooked lines of poetry."Good job, Femi," I said, patting his shoulder. "Your rhyme scheme is on point this time."He grinned, flashing a smile that showed all his little teeth. I grinned back and kept moving, stopping beside a girl who looked like she might cry from the pressure of getting one word to rhyme with “orange.”"Try something like… 'door hinge' instead," I whispered, kneeling beside her. “It’s silly, I know. But poems don’t have to be perfect, they just have to be honest.”The girl giggled quietly. I giggled too, unable to hold it any longer.My phone buzzed in my pocket then, and I ignored it at first, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear as I rose to my feet. Another buzz. Then another, in quick succession. Somethin
LUCAS My man, Josè’s club—La Noche Roja pulsed around me like a living, breathing thing—red lights, hushed laughter, and the muted rhythm of bass that thudded through the velvet walls and into my skull. I was sprawled across one of the VIP booths, a glass of scotch resting against my thigh, my fingers curled around it loosely like I wasn’t already on my fifth. Or maybe sixth. I’d lost count. I wasn’t even drinking to forget—just to feel numb. Something I did every once in a while, mostly since three years ago. A lineup of women danced in front of me, their hips swaying like an offering, their skins glowing under the dim lights. They moved for me, desperate for my gaze, my approval and most especially, my selection. But my eyes weren’t on any of them. They hadn’t been for hours. I was too busy on my phone to actually rate performances. I was doing this thing where I went through emails while drunk, and I stopped at one that started in such a crass manner, I had to properly s