Chapter 130 

I failed to do my homework. 

Not the textbook kind. The Julian kind–the emotional kind. The “apologise the moment you see her” kind. 

I hesitated. 

Clara walked to her seat like nothing happened. No hesitation, no side glances, no forced expressions. Just silence. A calm, collected storm. 

I tried. 

I swear I did. 

I tried so hard that my fingers tingled from the sheer tension, a buzzing beneath my skin like tiny fireworks of panic. I wanted to tap her shoulder. Jusť a small touch. Just one spark of courage to ignite a conversation. But my hand hovered like a coward, frozen midair, invisible and useless. 

My vocal cords betrayed me too. Went stiff, Numb. Like a dry desert had taken residence in my throat. I couldn’t form a word, let alone the only two that mattered–I’m sorry. 

So I sat through the entire period like a statue carved out of guilt and salt. My legs wouldn’t move, my back wouldn’t relax, and my jaw was clenched so tight I could hear my teeth complaining. 

That was why I hated the homeworks Julian gave. 

They always sounded like the easiest tasks in the world. Apologize. Compliment someone. Start a conversation. But when it came to doing them- actually doing them–it was like trying to lift a truck with a spoon. 

Gosh, I feel so pathetic. 

Now it was lunch break. 

People rushed out. Laughter erupted down the hallway. Desks scraped. Friends chatted over menu debates. And I? 

I didn’t even move. 

Didn’t dare to. 

I didn’t even try to stand and go to the canteen. Clara was still there, at her seat, quietly scribbling something in her notebook. She looked so calm it hurt. 

And I was terrified. 

Terrified that if I so much as stood up, I’d somehow catch her attention. 

Terrified to meet her eyes–the eyes that might be loathing me now. 

Then, she moved. 

and I 

She closed her notebook with a soft snap. Then, her hand slid quietly into her backpack and pulled out a small tin box–curiosity got the best couldn’t help but stretch my neck for a better view. She lifted the lid, and instantly, a warm, buttery aroma filled the air, rich with the comforting -ent, wrapping the room like a gentle, sweet invitation/ 

Freshly baked oat and choco–chip cookies. 

Oh God. 

They smelled and looked heavenly. Sweet, soft, slightly crisp, and warm even without heat. Like something that had the power to stitch hearts back together. 

1/3 

09:55 Sun 13 Jun 

Chapter 130 

I closed my eyes for just a second and let myself breathe it in. That scent. That comfort. 

Oh, god. I want those tempting cookies. 

“Want some?” Clara’s voice fluttered my eyes open like wind brushing petals. 

For a second, I thought i misheard her. 

There was no way she’d be talking to me. Not after what I did. Not after I reduced her to tears and made a public scene out of my unresolved trauma, You don’t offer such delicious, mouth–watering cookies to the person who humiliated you, do you? 

Turns out–you do. 

You do offer such delicious, mouth–watering cookies to the person who humiliated you if you’re Clara Winslow. The kindest person I have ever met so far. Tused the term “kindest” not because she offered cookies to the person who humiliated her, but because she dared to offer that amazing–locking cookie at all. I mean, ift were her, I would’ve never shared that cookie–the top of each and every one of them were completely covered in chocolate chips. Oh god, how rich and chocolatey it must taste. Yeah, I HAVE to apologize to her so that I can get her baker’s address. 

“I… umm…” I opened my mouth to reply, and my traitorous hand reached out before my words even formed. 

Not just one cookie. 

Two. 

I grabbed two. Like an uninvited guest at a bake sale. 

“Th–thank….. thank…” I stuttered, my voice scraping against the raw edge of shame. “Thank… you.” 

Okay. So apparently, my mouth wasn’t as shameless as my hand. At least it had the decency to sound awkward and guilty. 

Clara smiled. 

A real smile. A soft, relieving breath in the shape of a curve. 

“You’re welcome,” she said gently. “And I forgive you.” 

My head snapped up. 

What? 

“I know you were trying to apologize the whole day,” she added, as casually as someone might comment on the weather. 

Her words cracked something open inside me. Her smile–her understanding nature–gave an instant boost to my confidence, breaking the introvert wall my trauma had built around me when it came to new people. 

“Not just today,” I said, holding the pair of cookies like they were some kind of sacred relic. “I’ve been trying to apologize since last week.” I breathed in deep. My lungs shook a little. “I’m sorry. I really am. I shouldn’t… I… I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I didn’t mean to. I… I wasn’t… wasn’t even yelling at you. I was yelling at…” 

“Barbara, right?” she finished gently. 

I blinked. Probably with a dumbfounded expression. 

She chuckled softly. “No, I’m not telepathic,” she said, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You called me Barbara when you lashed out. I just—observed.” A sigh left her. “Honestly, I should be the one apologizing–for walking away like that. I guess though I am a nice observer… but I still lack the ability to be a fast observer. It took me a ten minute washroom break to realise that.” 

“Oh, please, don’t apologize.” I held her hand with my free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I don’t deserve one.” 

Chapter 130 

“Yeah, you don’t deserve just one.” She nodded. “You deserve modele Gum Been eating you alive these pase fois dans de prae must’ve probably thought that you were the reason for my absence 

1blinked again, slower this time. “Wait. Twen’t? 

She gave me a little tired days. Barely slept.” 

smile. “No, girl. I was absent because I found this amazing series called Gilmore ute i binge watched the whetston grea 

“Whaaaaat?” My jaw dropped. And somehow don’t ask me how my hand instinctively guided the pair of combing to my mouth, and I thol a Been Beta from one of them. The moment the flavor exploded on my tongue–sweet, buttery, oaty, melty perfection couldn’t help it: my eyes fubterna stak 

“Oh my god. This cookie is amazing. Like, criminally good.” 

Clara grinned, pride twinkling in her eyes. 

But when I snapped out of the cookie trance, the real question hit me. “Wait–your mom let you miss school to binge a show? Seriously? 

She hesitated. 

A small, almost invisible sigh fluttered from her lips. Then, a thin–pressed smile. 

“No,” she said softly. “Actually… I live alone. My parents… they’re dead.” 

Just like that, the cookie in my hand felt too heavy. 

To be continued… 

AD 

Send gift