“Miss Claire, we’ve got an abnormality in one of the experiments and no one can figure out what’s causing it. Could you come take a look?”
Without hesitation, I headed straight there.
Time flew as we worked through the problem and the sun was already rising when the wrong link was also found and repaired.
The younger researchers showered me with compliments. “Miss Claire, you’re a genius!”
Finally, they were reluctant to let me go again, “Miss Claire, are you really leaving for that classified research project?”
I nodded, “Yeah.”
“But what about your wedding?” one of them asked hesitantly.
“Are you really okay with leaving?”
I paused for a moment, then smiled. “The country’s work is more important.”
What I didn’t say was that, for Vincent, my presence or absence didn’t seem to matter anymore.
This world keeps spinning, with or without me.
***
Dragging my exhausted body home, I opened the door and she was again.
Zoe Williams.
She was wearing one of Vincent’s shirts, her bare legs peeking out as she walked out of the master bedroom.
When she saw me, she didn’t even flinch. “Don’t misunderstand, Claire,” she said casually. “After the clinic visit, it was really late. I didn’t want to go home since my parents were out of town. Vincent was just being considerate—he didn’t want me to be alone while I’m injured.”
Before I could respond, Vincent stepped out of the bathroom, his hair damp from a shower. When he saw me, probably thinking I would get upset again, his brows furrowed, bracing for another argument.
“Claire,” he sighed, “I don’t want to mess with you early in the morning.”
“She’s coming to work with me today and didn’t have anything to wear, so I lent her one of my shirts—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupted, cutting him off.
Both of them froze, caught off guard by my calm tone.
Vincent looked at me incredulously as if he felt my reaction was too calm.
He explained, “Last night, she slept in the guest room,” he said quickly, as though trying to preempt any accusations. “Don’t overthink things—”
I interrupted again, my voice steady. “I’m not overthinking. You two grew up together. You’ve always seen her as a sister. You even said the guest room is basically hers, open to her anytime and that she doesn’t need my permission to come over. I remember.”
Vincent faltered, the fight draining from his posture. When he spoke again, his tone was softer.