Your Love Is But a Dream (Clara and Wren) novel Chapter 44

Chapter 44

e where she had left bon. His face was partially obscured by the shadow of

clara turned to unlock the dont, glancing back to ser Alexander still standing w making his expiresalonam:ealable.

(“Alexander?” she called surth

Her er seemed to snap him out of his thoughts. He quiddy masked whatever had been on his mind and walked over to join ber

Clara didn’t notice anything unusual, duce he caught up, she opened the gate and stepped into the yard, leading the way maide

Andes followed her into the small house

“You canut on the couch while I make the pasta,” she said, gesturing toward the sofa. She set her bag down on a side table and headed straight to the kitchen. Alesonder sat down, bis eyes wandering around the cozy living room. The space was small but warm, decorated with soft cushions and a plush reddy bear on the woods. From where he sat, he had a clear view of the kitchen and could see Clara bustling about–boiling water, washing, and prepping ingredients with practiced

was something oddly fascinating about the scene.

Honestly, Alexander a first impression of Clara haitn’t been great. She reminded him too much of a certain type of woman–beautiful, soft–spoken, seemingly -dependent on others- the kind who would latch onto men for support,

When they’d first met at the airport, be’d assumed she had intentionally bumped into him. And when he saw her again in his car, it only reinforced his belief that she was trying to eet close to hum on purpose.

But after a few days of living next door to her, his suspicions started to waver. She had kept to herself, rarely going out or making any effort to interact with him. It made him question whether she even recognized him at all Maybe she wasn’t what he’d thought.

lapa senued sucurone behind her and turned to see Alexander leaning casually against the kitchen doorway. Startled, she paised mid–motion.

ate yet,” she said, breaking the silence. “If you’re hungry, there are some cookies and chocolate on the table. You can have those for now. Alexander lookedt muldly embarrassed, realizing the thought he was hovering because he was impatient. He rolled up his sleeves and glanced at the ingredients she

ip with anything?” Alexander asked.

Cara blinked at fùm, surprised. “Này, it’s just pasta. It’ll be done sooli

Seeing that the seemed unrundortable with the idea of hir

the coffee table intront of Alexander. The perfectly cooked

jang, Alexander didn’t insist. He d

He shuugged and retomed to the living room. mirades later, Clara emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate of steaming pasta: She set it was topped with cilantro and a soft toledege. It lookint shople but surprisingly appetizing Alexander parked up a turk, took a bite,

Clare frier für anat

ink you’d know how to cook this well did you learn this soutirwis

ent, bet expression stiffening slightly, the presse her lips together before responding. Her cooking skills were something she had learned

Carlile had been its pedibly strict with him. When was often so busy that he slipped meals, which eventually led to a severe case of

hospital