Novels by Etaro

(Clarice’s POV)Anna came over to help me move out of James's apartment. I didn't have much to pack, but it was Anna—naturally, she wanted to be a small part of it. Standing in the middle of the living room like a foreman inspecting the site, she planted her hands firmly on her hips, her eyes roaming around the space with a blend of curiosity and mild criticism. “I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you lived here for a while,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not terrible, but…” She gestured vaguely at the place. “It’s so… him.” I let out a breath, dropping my bag near the couch. “That’s what it means to be in someone else's space.” Anna turned to me, a playful grin stretching across her face. “Did it ever feel like home?” The question took me by surprise. I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out right away. The truth was—somewhere along the journey, it had stopped feeling temporary. James's apartmen

(Third-Person POV)Silence lingered between them, thick and uncertain. Clarice could still feel the weight of James’s words hanging in the air. But I never stopped loving you. Her heart raced unevenly, her thoughts tangled in all the things left unspoken. Yet neither of them moved or sought an easy escape. James exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as if trying to shake off the intensity of the moment. When he finally turned to her again, there was a softness in his eyes. Not forgiveness. Not just yet. But something close. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, his voice lower now. “Tea, wine… or I still have that awful hot chocolate you used to love.” Clarice blinked at him, taken by surprise. It wasn’t the response she had anticipated. But maybe that was the point. She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You mean the one you claimed tasted like melted candles?” “Exactly,” he replied, lips qu

(Clarice’s POV)I can’t say how long we stood there, the atmosphere weighted with unspoken feelings. James had just confessed it—he wanted to see me. His words were quiet, almost hesitant, yet they rang with sincerity. And that sincerity caused my heart to ache like never before. I inhaled deeply, my hands curling helplessly at my sides. “James…” He shook his head, dismissing it. “Forget it.” He turned away, heading toward the kitchen as if he needed space, but I couldn’t let this moment fade. Not when it was the first genuine thing he’d said since he opened that door. “I don’t want to forget it,” I said, moving closer to him. “I need to understand why.” James let out a sharp breath, leaning against the counter. His back was to me, his muscles tense beneath his shirt. “Does it even matter?” “Yes.” A dry laugh escaped him. “Why? So you can soothe your conscience? So you feel better about what went down with Ryan?” I flinched but held my g

(Clarice’s POV)The silence lingered between them, heavy with unspoken words.James was gone.For some reason I remained frozen on the couch, feeling Ryan’s presence too near for comfort. I hardly registered what he was saying—something about how soft my lips were, how he’d wanted to kiss me since the first day we met. My thoughts however, were caught on the expression in James’s eyes.The pain.The betrayal.The heartbreak.I hadn’t intended for it to happen this way. Not like this.My breath came in shaky bursts, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Ryan sat beside me, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing within me.“That was… nice,” he said, grinning at me, his voice smooth and relaxed. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”I blinked in surprise. “What?”“The kiss.” He chuckled, leaning back into the couch. “It felt right, don’t you think?”Did it?I just coul

(James’s POV)The day had been a blur, full of deadlines and meetings that dragged on longer than expected. By the time I got Clarice’s call, I could barely keep my eyes open. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to her—I always wanted to talk to her—but I was buried in work, a pile of papers I couldn’t escape. The office had me in its grip, and I was barely holding on. I didn’t even know what time it was anymore. It felt like it had been a hundred hours since I’d seen sunlight.“Clarice.” I managed to say.“Hey umm, You sound busy. Are you?” She sounded… unsure.Her voice was soft, but I could tell from the sound of it that she was expecting something different. “Yeah, I’ve got a lot to get to today.” My tone was sharper than I intended, but I couldn’t help it. My mind was elsewhere—on the reports, the emails, the presentation I hadn’t finished. It was all too much, and it felt like there was no way out.I could hear her pause on the other end, th

(Clarice’s POV)I tap my fingers against the edge of the coffee table, staring at my phone as I debate whether or not to call him.James.The name alone stirs something in my chest, something complicated. Something that hasn’t gone away, no matter how much I try to push it aside.I exhale sharply, shaking off the nerves. This is ridiculous. It’s just a phone call. We’re adults. I don’t have to overthink every interaction.Before I can talk myself out of it, I tap his name and bring the phone to my ear. He doesn’t pick and I proceed to dial again. He finally picks up on the third ring.“Clarice?” His voice sounded flustered, kind of like I was a disturbance of some sort.“Hey umm,” I say, trying to sound casual. “You sound busy. Are you?”“Uh, yes. I’ve got a lot to get to today.”I paused. He was being weird. His tone wasn’t cold, exactly, but it’s definitely not warm either. It reminds me of the way he sounded right after we broke up—polite,