Page 64 of Falling for My Ex Next Door

“How’s your day going?” I asked after she settled into the chair across from me.

“Pretty good,” she smiled.

“Great! I brought lunch.” I said and immediately began unpacking the takeouts.

“Burger.” She beamed a satisfactory smile.

“Yeah,” I offered her a portion.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

“Well, how is work?” She sounded reluctant, but I was pleased she was putting in an effort to have a conversation.

“Great! We have two newly signed deals.” I responded.

“That’s awesome,” she blushed.

“Yeah, it is.”

Glancing around, I can’t help but admire what she’s created here. “You’ve done a wonderful job with this place, Clara,” I say, hoping my admiration comes across sincerely.

“Thank you,” she replied, her tone measured as she smooths her apron.

She pours the coffee with familiar care, a reminder of the attention to detail she always possessed, even when we were together.

“I heard about the fundraiser for a sensory room in the library last week that was hosted here,” I ventured, trying to bridge the years and distance that have grown between us. “They said you stayed open late to ensure everyone had time to take part.”

A faint smile crosses her face as she nods.

“It was the least I could do. This neighborhood has been good to me since I started running the shop. Giving back is important to me.”

Her words warmed me, and I felt a surge of the old admiration I always felt for her depth of care. “That’s one thing I’ve always admired about you, Clara. You care deeply.”

She meets my gaze, searching for a moment, then looks away. “People depend on me here,” she said softly, almost to herself.

I reached out, touching her hand lightly, hesitating as emotions churned inside me.

“I’ve missed this... us. I’ve missed you,” I confess.

She withdraws her hand gently, not harshly, but with a clear intent to protect herself from any emotional hurt. It stings, but I understand.

“Why are you here, Jacob?” she asked, her expression guarded.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself against the vulnerability that washes over me. “Because I want to spend time with you,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “I’ve realized that I’m happy when I’m around you. And...” I pause, the next words critical, “And I love you, Clara.”

She looked at me. I can see her wrestling with her feelings. The years of solitude and strength she has endured have tempered her emotions.

“If you still have feelings for me, why did our relationship end? Was there something I did wrong?” She asked, perplexed.

Clara’s question hangs heavy in the air, lingering between us like an unspoken truth. Why did I break up with her? The memory of that moment resurfaces, vivid and painful.

“I...” I begin, the words catching in my throat.

How do I explain without revealing the raw vulnerability, the fear that consumed me then?

“I never meant to hurt you, Clara,” I say, the ache in my chest almost tangible. “When my father fell ill, everything changed. Suddenly, I found myself thrust into a position of responsibility that I was not prepared for. I had to move away, and take on the role of CEO.”

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