Chapter 13
Misunderstandings
Clara Bennett had been looking forward to a quiet afternoon arranging flowers, but when she peeked outside her shop, she spotted Oliver across the street laughing with another woman. She didn’t know who the woman was, but something inside her twisted unexpectedly.
Her first instinct was to walk away, to pretend she hadn’t seen anything. But curiosity — and something else, something she didn’t want to admit — pushed her closer.
As she approached, Oliver spotted her and waved. “Clara! You have to see this — my friend Jenna brought these amazing pastries for the pop-up—”
Clara’s stomach sank. Friend? Right… She smiled, forcing her voice to stay steady. “Oh… hi,” she said softly, clutching her bag a little tighter.
Oliver’s expression shifted, noticing her sudden quietness. “Clara, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, though her voice betrayed her. “I… I just remembered something I need to do in the shop.”
Oliver frowned, sensing her tension. “Wait — did I do something wrong?”
“You didn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s… nothing. Really.”
But inside, her mind was spinning. She had never felt this strange pang before — jealousy, confusion, and a sudden awareness of how much she cared for him all mixed together. She hurried back into her shop, flustered, her heart racing.
Later that afternoon, Oliver appeared at her door, holding a small bouquet of daisies. “Hey,” he said softly, “I feel like something’s wrong. Did I upset you?”
Clara sighed, finally letting herself meet his concerned gaze. “It’s… I don’t know. Seeing you with someone else made me… jealous,” she admitted, her voice low.
Oliver’s eyes softened. He stepped closer, brushing her hand gently with his. “Clara, that’s not fair to yourself — or to us. She’s just a friend. You’re the one I care about. You’ve been my favorite part of every day this summer.”
Clara felt a rush of warmth and relief. “I guess I… didn’t want to admit how much I care,” she whispered.
Oliver smiled, leaning slightly closer. “Then don’t. Just… trust me. I like you. Only you.”
Her chest swelled with a mixture of happiness and embarrassment. She had been wrestling with her feelings, afraid of admitting how strong they had grown, but now, hearing him say it so clearly, she felt lighter, freer.
“I… trust you,” she said softly, allowing herself to relax into the moment.
Oliver grinned, brushing a thumb across her hand. “Good. Because I think we’ve got a lot more adventures — messy, chaotic, and perfectly ours — ahead of us.”
Clara laughed, the tension of the afternoon dissolving into warmth. Maybe some conflicts were necessary to realize what mattered most. And right now, what mattered most was him.