Your Love Is But a Dream (Clara and Wren)



Chapter 44

Clara turned to unlock the door, glancing back to see Alexander still standing where she had left him. His face was partially obscured by the shadows of the night, making his expression unreadable.

"Alexander?" she called softly.

Her voice seemed to snap him out of his thoughts. He quickly masked whatever had been on his mind and walked over to join her.

Clara didn't notice anything unusual. Once he caught up, she opened the gate and stepped into the yard, leading the way inside.

Alexander followed her into the small house.

"You can sit on the couch while I make the pasta," she said, gesturing toward the sofa. She set her bag down on a side table and headed straight to the kitchen.

Alexander sat down, his eyes wandering around the cozy living room. The space was small but warm, decorated with soft cushions and a plush teddy bear on the couch. From where he sat, he had a clear view of the kitchen and could see Clara bustling about-boiling water, washing, and prepping ingredients with practiced ease.

There was something oddly fascinating about the scene.

Honestly, Alexander's first impression of Clara hadn't been great. She reminded him too much of a certain type of woman-beautiful, soft-spoken, seemingly dependent on others- the kind who would latch onto men for support.

When they'd first met at the airport, he'd assumed she had intentionally bumped into him. And when he saw her again in his car, it only reinforced his belief that she was trying to get close to him on purpose.

But after a few days of living next door to her, his suspicions started to waver. She had kept to herself, rarely going out or making any effort to interact with him. It made him question whether she even recognized him at all. Maybe she wasn't what he'd thought.

Clara sensed someone behind her and turned to see Alexander leaning casually against the kitchen doorway. Startled, she paused mid-motion.

"The pasta isn't ready yet," she said, breaking the silence. "If you're hungry, there are some cookies and chocolate on the table. You can have those for now."

Alexander looked mildly embarrassed, realizing she thought he was hovering because he was impatient. He rolled up his sleeves and glanced at the ingredients she was still washing.

"Do you need help with anything?" Alexander asked.

Clara blinked at him, surprised. "No, it's just pasta. It'll be done soon."

Seeing that she seemed uncomfortable with the idea of him helping, Alexander didn't insist. He shrugged and returned to the living room.

Fifteen minutes later, Clara emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate of steaming pasta. She set it on the coffee table in front of Alexander. The perfectly cooked pasta was topped with cilantro and a soft-boiled egg. It looked simple but surprisingly appetizing.

Alexander picked up a fork, took a bite, and his eyes lit up. A small smile tugged at his lips.noveldrama

"This is good," he admitted. "I didn't think you'd know how to cook this well. Did you learn this somewhere?"

Clara froze for a moment, her expression stiffening slightly. She pressed her lips together before responding. Her cooking skills were something she had learned for Wren.

When Wren started working, Carlisle had been incredibly strict with him. Wren was often so busy that he skipped meals, which eventually led to a severe case of gastritis that landed him in the hospital.

After that, Clara secretly took cooking lessons, determined to take care of him. Wren had always spoiled her growing up, so she rarely had to lift a finger at home. Learning to cook had been a challenge-she'd cut her hands with knives, burned herself with hot oil, and accumulated countless little scars. But she'd persevered, all because she wanted to make sure Wren had some warm and homemade food waiting for him.

She used to imagine how he'd react. Would he smile when he tasted her food? Would he compliment her? Be proud of her?

But things didn't go as she had hoped. The one time she cooked for Wren, he didn't praise her. Instead, he blew up, scolding the housekeeper and threatening to fire anyone who let her into the kitchen again.

The irony wasn't lost on her. She'd gone through so much trouble to learn how to cook for Wren, yet he never even tried a single bite.

"Clara," Alexander's voice cut through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present. She looked up at him, startled.

"What were you thinking about? You were totally out of it," he said, his gaze sharp but curious.