Chapter 65 up
“Nyla.”
Nyla stopped right in front of the small café door. That voice—calling her name with a tone she knew too well—was the kind that used to make her turn around without thinking, without hesitation.
Now, her body stiffened for a brief second before she slowly turned.
Clark was standing there.
And he wasn’t alone.
His arm rested lightly around the waist of a woman in a cream-colored dress with an elegant cut. Her hair fell neatly over her shoulders, her face beautiful, her smile polished—practiced. She stood a little too close, as if making sure the world knew exactly where Clark’s loyalty lay today.
“Didn’t expect to run into you here,” Clark continued, his smile appearing too quickly. The same smile he used to wear when he wanted to hide his unease.
Nyla looked at him for a moment. Just a moment.
Her chest didn’t tighten. There was no surge of emotion. Only one clear, cool thought passed through her mind: so this is what you wanted to show me.
She exhaled softly, then lifted her face with a neutral expression.
“Hi, Clark,” she replied calmly.
Clark blinked, as if that wasn’t the response he had been expecting.
The woman beside him leaned forward slightly, her eyes assessing Nyla from head to toe. “I’m Elara,” she said, her voice sweet but sharp. “Clark’s girlfriend.”
She emphasized the word girlfriend like a stamp of ownership.
Clark nodded quickly. “Yes. Elara and I… we’re together now.”
An awkward pause followed. Clark waited—perhaps for pain, for anger, for something to crack.
Instead, he got a smile.
Nyla’s smile was soft, thin, unforced.
“Oh,” she said lightly. “I’m happy to hear that.”
Clark frowned faintly. “That’s it?”
Nyla tilted her head slightly. “What should I say?”
Elara let out a small laugh, the kind that sounded a little too deliberate. “Most people would be… surprised.”
Nyla looked at her directly this time. Her gaze wasn’t sharp or challenging—just too calm. “I stopped being surprised by my own life a long time ago.”
Something pulsed uncomfortably in Clark’s chest. This wasn’t going the way he had imagined. He had come with Elara at his side, expecting Nyla’s expression to crack, or at least waver. Not this quiet composure.
He stepped a little closer. “You look… well.”
“I am well,” Nyla answered without hesitation. “Are you?”
Clark fell silent. The simple question felt like a test.
Elara tightened her arm around his. “Clark is doing great. We just had lunch. He wanted to show me some of his favorite places in this city.”
Nyla nodded slightly. “That’s nice. I hope you enjoy it.”
Her tone was even, not cold. And that was what unsettled Clark the most. There was no trace of possessiveness. No questions. No curiosity.
He smiled again—that same too-quick smile. “Do you live around here now?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
This time, Nyla looked at him longer. There was a clear boundary in her eyes. “That question isn’t relevant anymore, Clark.”
Elara let out a small scoff. “You seem a bit defensive.”
Nyla turned to her and offered a polite smile. “I’m just being clear.”
The air between them tightened. Clark could feel it. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, like someone who had forgotten his lines on a stage he himself had set.
“I just wanted to say hello,” he said finally. “Nothing more.”
Nyla nodded and took half a step back. “And you have.”
She reached for the café door handle. “I need to get back to work.”
Clark spoke reflexively. “We could talk another time—”
“No need,” Nyla interrupted gently but firmly. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
That was the sentence that hit Clark the hardest.
Happy.
He wasn’t sure the word still applied to him.
Nyla opened the door, the small bell above it chiming softly. Before stepping inside, she turned back once more, purely out of courtesy. “Take care.”
Then she disappeared into the café.
Clark stood frozen. Elara pulled her arm away with an irritated motion. “That’s it? She didn’t even look bothered.”
Clark swallowed. “That’s just how she is now.”
“How?” Elara crossed her arms. “Cold?”
“Calm,” Clark answered quietly. Too quietly.
Elara looked at him with suspicion. “You were hoping for a different reaction, weren’t you?”
Clark didn’t respond.
Behind the café’s glass window, Nyla stood still for a moment before moving deeper inside. Her hands trembled slightly, then she clenched them and let out a long breath.
This wasn’t a reunion, she thought.
It was a display.