Your Love Is But a Dream (Clara and Wren)

Clara had asked Wren for help before, but after not knitting for so long, she had become quite rusty. Clara lowered her gaze, hiding the faint emotion in her eyes, and folded the scarf before placing it into the glove compartment bag. She then began to pack her things.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Clara walked over and opened it.

Wren stood outside, holding a thermos. When he saw it was Clara who opened the door, he smiled slightly. "Why aren't you sleeping a bit longer?"

Clara shook her head and looked at Wren. "I saw the scarf you knitted. It's beautiful. Thank you."

Wren's smile deepened, thinking she was referring to the one he had given her. He reached up and patted her head. "I'm glad you like it. I made you breakfast. After you're done, I'll handle your discharge paperwork."

Clara wanted to pull away from his touch, but Wren quickly retracted his hand, noticing her reluctance. A hint of melancholy flashed in his eyes.

"Come on in," Wren said, smiling bitterly as he suppressed the disappointment in his heart.

"Alright."

Clara ignored the sadness in his expression and turned to walk back inside.

Wren followed her in and placed the thermos on the table. "Eat something first. I'll help you pack up. After you're done, you can take care of your discharge paperwork."

"I'll pack up myself later," Clara replied.

Wren forced a smile, looking at her helplessly. "Clara, do you really want to keep distancing yourself from me like this? You used to let me take care of all your things."

"But things are different now," Clara said calmly. "I don't need you to do these things for me anymore."

Wren's breath hitched, and he lowered his gaze, hiding the sorrow in his eyes. He bitterly said, "Alright, I understand. I'll let you do it yourself."

When Clara saw the disappointment on his face, her heart jolted. She quickly turned her gaze away, offering an excuse, "I'll go wash up first."

With that, she grabbed her toiletries and quickly left the room.

Wren rubbed his temple, feeling a sharp ache in his eyes. He had stayed up all night, showered when he got home, and immediately started preparing breakfast without resting. When he looked in thenoveldrama

mirror that morning, there were dark

circles under his eyes.

If it were before, Clara would have noticed immediately. However, things were different now.

Wren let out a bitter laugh.

Just as he was about to pull the chair next to the bed, his gaze suddenly landed on something on the bedside table. He froze.

The scarf he had placed there was just as he had left it, while Clara's scarf to give

to her student was nowhere to be seen.

The scarf Wren had personally knitted for Clara was meant to be hers. Yet, she hadn't even touched it.

A sharp pang of sorrow hit Wren's chest.

He suddenly recalled the scarf Clara had given him all those years ago.

Hoever worn it. Had she felt

the same way back then, or perhaps she simply didn't like it?

Wren's expression darkened, and his hand fell limply to his side.

It wasn't until footsteps sounded behind him that he shifted his stiff neck and

turned to look at Clara. "Don't you like the scarf I gave you?"

Clara had originally planned to ask him to take it back, but when she saw the expression on his face, her words got stuck in her throat.

She realized Wren would leave Larkston after today. She didn't want them to part

on bad terms, especially over something so small.

She shook her head and firmly said, "No, it's not that. It's just that I don't need anything. You don't have to give me anything anymore."