Chapter 26 MOMENTS OF UNEASE.
Clara's POV:
Dilemma.
That’s exactly what I felt as I stood outside the café, trying to steady myself.
Why had I said yes to this date with Jake?
Every instinct screamed no, yet I’d agreed. My chest tightened at the memory that had triggered it.
The image of Professor Asher and Elsie Silver, locked in a kiss in the hallway.
It wasn’t just jealousy—it stung. Seeing him so calm, unbothered, not even pulling away.
Their kiss had been effortless, and a gnawing question took hold: Was there any history between them?
Rejecting Jake now felt impossible. I couldn’t hurt him - not when he’d been nothing but patient, persistent without ever crossing the line too far, even when he sometimes overstepped.
I couldn’t shake the memory of his face lighting up when I said yes -: he’d practically beamed.
He’d offered to drive me, but I’d refused, wanting to arrive on my own terms.
By the time I reached the café, I barely noticed. I stepped onto the pavement, let out a quiet sigh, and smoothed my dress.
The warm glow of the amber lights spilled over the rustic wooden tables inside. The faint scent of roasted coffee and fresh pastries filled the air.
Green potted plants hung by the windows, and soft jazz floated through the room, calm but alive.
The glass doors slid open with a soft whoosh. My heart raced. Each step inside felt deliberate, measured.
I had to stay composed, keep my stormy thoughts in check, and hide just how unsettled I was from Jake.
Tonight wasn’t just about my feelings.
It was about not hurting the one person who’d always been patient, kind, and steady.
Just then, a waitress approached, tray in hand.
“Good evening,” she said, nodding politely.
I straightened, a little flustered, and she squinted. “Miss Clara Bennett?”
I blinked rapidly, caught off guard at how she knew my name.
“Y-yes,” I stuttered.
She smiled gently. “Right this way, please.”
And then it hit me - Jake had orchestrated a private date, just for us.
A pang squeezed my chest; guilt gnawed at me. All this effort… and I was here, not for him, but to escape the lingering image of Professor Asher.
Ever since that night, ever since I’d gotten intimate with him, he’d been haunting my thoughts.
And now I was here, pretending this date wasn’t just a distraction from him.
I shook my head, trying to shake off the guilt, but it clung stubbornly.
The glass doors slid shut with a soft whoosh, and suddenly it was just us.
My breath caught as I met Jake’s eyes- not from desire, but from guilt.
He sat there, calm, faintly smiling, patient, completely unaware of the storm inside me.
Jake stood. I inhaled sharply. Not from attraction, but from conscience.
He walked toward me, each step confident and measured, impossible not to notice.
I let myself take him in. The suit - crisp, tailored, sharp. First time seeing him like this, and he looked… striking.
The subtle sheen of his tie, his black suit matched my gown perfectly.
We looked… in sync. Like we’d planned it, like a couple tonight, even if by chance.
He stopped in front of me, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips that made my chest clench.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, low and warm, offering his hand.
I hesitated briefly, then placed mine over his, forcing a soft smile despite the guilt pressing down.
He squeezed my hand gently and guided me to the table, my heels clicking on the floor. I couldn’t help studying him.
At the table, he paused, stepped closer, and pulled out my chair.
“Thank you,” I whispered, barely audible.
He gave a small nod, that faint grin on his lips, and I eased into the chair, smoothing my gown.
Jake settled across from me, eyes warm as ever.
“You look… amazing,” he murmured, the corner of his grin lifted slightly.
I offered a small smile, fingers brushing the table edge. “You don’t look bad yourself,” I murmured, taking him in.
Seeing him like this, I couldn’t ignore the effort he’d put in.
My eyes swept the café - it was just the two of us, perfectly private.
No distractions. Just us. For a moment, the guilt eased. Jake deserved this, deserved my attention, if only a little.
A waiter appeared, tray in hand.
“Evening, sir, ma’am. What can I get you tonight?” he asked, glancing between us.
I blinked, caught off guard, as Jake spoke before me.
“We’ll have whatever she wants,” he said, eyes meeting mine with a faint smirk.
“Umm… mushroom risotto, please,” I murmured.
“Make that two,” he added. The waiter nodded and left.
I looked away, hiding the flutter in my chest as Jake’s gaze stayed locked on me, his smile steady.
“You look… incredible tonight, Clara,” he said, voice low, just for me. “Stunning.”
I blinked, cheeks warming.
“Th-thank you, Jake,” I murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, fingers brushing my neck.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught his faint, knowing grin.
“Seriously, Clara,” he said, leaning back, voice even but assertive.
“You’ve got presence. The way you walk, the way you hold yourself. It’s impossible not to notice. Even in a room full of people, you’d still stand out.”
My throat tightened. I thought I’d grown used to Jake’s over-the-top compliments, his way with words, but now… in this quiet space, I realized I hadn’t.
I forced a small laugh. “You’re exaggerating.”
He grinned, playful yet steady, and a warm flutter spread through me.
The waiter returned and set our plates down. “Enjoy your meal,” he said before slipping away.
Jake angled his head toward me - a quiet cue to start - his eyes never leaving mine.
I gave him a small, quick smile and took my first bite, letting the taste distract me from the mess of thoughts spinning in my head.
As we ate, I could feel Jake’s gaze on me the whole time. It made it hard to focus on the delicious food.
Each bite felt observed, his eyes tracking my every move, stirring a mix of warmth and discomfort in my chest.
After a few minutes, I knew I had to acknowledge his effort and finally open up.
I set my fork down and drew a slow breath, steadying myself. I couldn’t bring myself to meet Jake’s eyes - not when I knew what I was about to say would hurt.
“Jake…” I murmured. “I can’t keep acting like I feel something I don’t.”
The words scraped out of me, heavy but honest.
“You’ve put so much into tonight, into us - and I’m grateful. Truly. But I can’t be with you. And you deserve to hear that without me dancing around it.”
I shut my eyes for a heartbeat, bracing myself for whatever was on his face when I finally looked up.
I finally looked up, ready for whatever expression he’d throw at me -: but froze.
Jake wasn’t even looking at my face.
His gaze had dropped, locked somewhere around my collarbone, unmoving, unblinking.
The expression he wore made my stomach knot.
His jaw was set, his fork suspended mid-air. He didn’t look hurt or confused - just locked in, staring so hard it was like he’d left the room entirely.
In all the time I’d known Jake, I’d never seen him this still, this unreadable, this deep in his own head.
“Jake?” I said quietly.
Nothing.
“Jake!” a bit louder.
He let out a slow breath, a low laugh slipping out before he dragged a hand down his face, like he was shaking something off.
Then he blinked hard and finally focused on me, as if realizing I’d been talking the whole time.
“Sorry,” he exhaled, running a hand down his face. “What were you saying?”
I froze, words dying on my tongue.
I stared at him for a few seconds, every instinct in me pausing.
I couldn’t repeat it.
Not now.
Not when he looked that distracted.
Not when everything tonight had gone so smoothly.
I didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere, or his efforts, or this peaceful moment.
And honestly… I hoped he’d understand later. I’d never meant to lead him on.
Or had I?
I forced a small smile. “It’s nothing, Jake. I just… thank you. For tonight, for everything you did, for thinking of me the way you do. It’s… really thoughtful.”
His face softened instantly, a slow smile spreading across his lips.
“It’s nothing, love,” he said smoothly.
Then his voice dipped, a sharper edge in the words, just enough to make my skin prickle.
“You have no idea, Clara… how far I'd go for you. There are lines most won't cross… but for you, I won't hesitate.”
A subtle chill crawled up my arms at the way he said it - calm, gentle, but with something darker humming beneath it.
Something that didn’t quite sit right with me.
Still… strangely, I felt more relaxed with him now.
Maybe because he was familiar.
Maybe it was easier to pretend here.
Either way, I shoved the unease aside and lifted my fork, hoping the night stayed this smooth just as it began.