Your Love Is But a Dream (Clara and Wren)

"You were willing to compromise on everything for Ivy. Don't tell me you couldn't see through her schemes," Clara said, her voice calm but piercing.

"You let her get away with it when she set me up, when she intentionally destroyed my mother's last painting, even when she humiliated me. And not only did you stand by and watch, but you also joined her and became another person who hurt me." Clara's tone stayed steady, but her words cut deeper than any raised voice could.

"Wren, you've already made your choice, haven't you? Like that night at the gala, when the chandelier came crashing down, and you saved her without even sparing me a glance. You didn't stop there you came to the hospital and warned me not to hold it against her, even if it meant tearing down my dreams to protect her.

"You did all that for her. And now you're standing here, telling me you're not marrying her and asking me to go back with you? I don't understand you."

Wren opened his mouth to respond, the words hovering on the edge of release. He wanted so badly to tell her the truth-to lay bare the love he had buried under years of duty and pretense, but he couldn't.

What would happen after he admitted it? He'd still have to return to Phoypolis and get caught in the web of lies and negotiations he'd spun with Carlisle and Ivy.

If anyone realized the truth about his feelings for Clara, all his efforts would be undone. But if he stayed silent, he'd lose her for good. Caught in this impossible dilemma, Wren froze.

Clara's lips curved into a faint, bitter smile. "See? You don't even know why you're doing this.

"You're just used to having me around, Wren. That's all it is a habit. You don't know how to deal with me being gone."

Her words left him gutted, but she continued before he could refute them. "You know how much I used to love you. I worked so hard to let go of that, and now you want to drag me back into your life? "What for? So I can watch you and Ivy together and tear myself apart all over again?"

"I wouldn't I never meant to " Wren's voice cracked as he stumbled over his words, each syllable heavier than the last. "Clara, I swear, I don't want to hurt you anymore. Please, just give me a little more time."

Those words, spoken with desperation, carried the truth he had suppressed for so long, but Clara didn't believe him.

Her smile turned sharp, almost mocking. "So, you're saying you love me now?"

"Clara, I-yes. I do," Wren said, his voice breaking.

"Do you even believe that yourself?"

"It's the truth! I really-"

"I don't believe you," she interrupted, her tone firm and unwavering. "Because someone who loves another person doesn't push them away when they confess their feelings. If they really did, they wouldn't stand by while others tore their loved ones down. "Do you want to know when I decided to stop loving you?"

Wren's heart pounded. The color drained from his face as fear took root.

"It was on your birthday," she said quietly.

The memory hit Wren like a freight train.

Clara's expression softened, but only slightly. "I was going to try again that day-to patch things up between us and tell you how I felt. But instead, I found out what you really thought of me.

"I watched you toss my feelings into the trash, Wren. You laughed with them as they ridiculed me. You said I was disgusting."

Wren stumbled back as if the words themselves had struck him. "Clara, no, I didn't mean-"

"I wanted to study in Ostia, to chase my dream. You knew that. But you still chose Ivy over me, even then. I can't even blame you for it," she said, her voice softening.

"You took care of me for years; you didn't owe me anything-not your love, not your kindness, not even your protection. I don't hate you, Wren," she said, her gaze steady but distant. "But I don't love you anymore either." The finality in her voice broke something inside him.

"I'm done letting myself get hurt over you. You don't want me, and I don't want you anymore, either."

Clara's words landed like a series of blows, each one deliberate and hurtful. Wren stared at her, his lips moving as he tried to form a response, but no words came out because there was nothing he could say.

Every wound she described was inflicted by him; every accusation was true.

He could have done things differently. He should have let her go when he had the chance, but he didn't. His selfishness had brought them here, and now, there was nothing left to salvage.