Page 27 of Falling for My Ex Next Door

“I insist. I’m just going to help you with things, you know, it’s not a big deal.”

She briefly looked at me, doubt filling her eyes.

“No.”

“But I cannot sit around and do nothing. I’ll clean the cups.”

“Do you not have any personal work to do?” She asked, dubiously.

Of course, I had, but I couldn’t tell her, or I would be forced out of the shop in a minute.

“Nah.” I lied.

“Still.”

“Oh, Clara, just get me an apron already.”

Reluctantly, she fetched me an apron, and soon, I found being a barista’s assistant very interesting. I could further deduce that most residents of Sunnyvale were quite alluring. They often smiled, they were cheerful in the conversations, and they were polite, too. I received far more tips than I thought I would as an assistant. It’s a stark contrast to the high-stakes corporate world I’m used to, with its towering offices and polished facades.

The look on Clara’s face at the end of the day’s work convinced me that I had done well, though she didn’t mention anything close to it.

“Shall I resign and settle down working with you?” I jokingly asked, watching her serve Americano to one of the customers she was acquainted with.

She looked suspiciously at me and said, “Thank you, but I’m good on my own.”

I nodded.

“I appreciate your help today.” She added unexpectedly.

“It’s my pleasure.” I was, at least, glad about that. I took off my apron and kept it away.

“It’s time to close for the day.” She said this when I returned from the bathroom. It was apparent she had cleared everything that needed to be removed and she was prepared to leave.

“I’ll drive you home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Clara,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I couldn’t possibly leave you behind when we are neighbors. It’s not a big deal.”

She was quiet for a moment, reflecting.

“It’s not a big deal,” she repeated softly, grabbing her purse.

All through the ride, she said nothing, and I didn’t initiate a conversation either. Sometimes it was best to enjoy the silence. However, I was uncomfortable thinking she might be bothered about something she did not want me to know. I had lost the right, I knew, but then I could not just bring myself to watch her suffer in silence.

Despite my feelings, I did not want to push it. I did not want a situation where I would bruise her sensitivity again.

Glancing at her, I wanted my eyes to linger on the lovely architecture of her face. I never got over her, I admit. The form of her eyes, her nose, and her lips were more than poetry. Her lips were full and lush, and her lower lip was slightly fuller than the upper, adding to her beauty. The innocence that could be spotted in her eyes, which made one madly attracted to her, was still very much alive.

I found myself wanting to reach out to her and draw her near. But-

There was always a ‘but’.

Clara Lisbon was no longer mine. I missed the days when I could boastfully say she was mine! No man dared to look at her when I was around. I can remember how jealously I had guarded her. She was an invaluable ‘possession’ I could barely share with anyone.

However, now she seemed so far away, so aloof like she wasn’t there at all. I felt remorseful for having been the cause of it. We could be married by now. We could have had at least two children. I could love her every day without hesitation.

When our houses came into view, she moved on her seat, and upon finally parking the car, she snapped out of her seat belt.

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