Once Upon a Heartbreak

2 - Clara

Back at my apartment, I toss my bag onto the couch and collapse beside it, barely able to process the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind. Paris hums along outside my window, as if the city is blissfully unaware of the bombshell that just dropped into my lap. Meanwhile, I'm sitting here, trying to convince myself that this trip won't be the disaster it's clearly shaping up to be.

I glance at the file on the coffee table, staring at it like it's some kind of ticking time bomb. Unopened, but unavoidable. This project—launching a new line of sustainable luxury products for the Austrian market—is exactly the kind of assignment I've been busting my ass to land. It's the kind of gig that could seriously boost my career. And if I'm being brutally honest with myself, there's a small part of me that's actually excited to dive into something new, something that might keep me too busy to think about everything else.

Finally, I force myself to reach for the file, flipping it open with a sigh. The first page is all business—logistics, meetings with local agricultural businesses, reviewing the marketing strategy, making sure everything aligns with the region's cultural quirks. It's straightforward enough, and if I stick to the plan, I'll be shuttling between the hotel and the main office, in and out before anyone even realizes I was there.

The hotel. The thought of it brings a small wave of relief. A comfortable, anonymous hotel room where I can hide out, away from the prying eyes of anyone who might remember me. Ackerheim is tiny, sure, but it's not like I have to roll out the red carpet for my grand return. As long as I steer clear of the local hangouts, avoid all the spots where everyone knows everyone, I should be able to fly under the radar.

But as I sit there, the knot in my stomach starts to tighten again. What the hell am I doing? Going back to that place, where everything fell apart—what kind of twisted fate is this? I've spent years building a life here in Paris, keeping my distance from anything and anyone that could drag me back into the past. And now, I'm supposed to just waltz back into Ackerheim like it's no big deal? Like I'm not walking into the lion's den?

Three days. That's what I keep telling myself. Just three days of keeping my head down, doing the job, and getting the hell out of there. But the thought of running into someone—especially him—sends a shiver down my spine. I can't even say his name out loud without feeling like I'm going to unravel. But if I play my cards right, I won't have to. I just need to stay invisible, focus on the task, and avoid any unnecessary drama.

My phone buzzes on the table, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. It's an email from HR with my travel itinerary. My flight is booked, my hotel is confirmed, and suddenly, this whole nightmare feels all too real. But instead of the dread I've been carrying around, a weird sense of determination kicks in. I've handled tough assignments before. This one's no different... right? I just need to stay focused and keep everyone, especially him, at arm's length.

I slam the file shut and lean back against the cushions, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to calm the storm inside my head. If I can just stick to the plan—hotel, office, back to the hotel—I'll get through this without losing my mind. There's no need to stroll down memory lane or revisit old haunts. The fewer people I see, the better.

And my family? They'll just have to deal with the excuse that I was too swamped to visit. It's not like they'll be thrilled, but they'll understand... I hope. It's been so long since I've seen them, I can barely remember what it feels like to be around them.

With a deep breath, I open my laptop and start diving into the project details, forcing myself to focus on what's ahead. The more I bury myself in work, the easier it is to push aside the tidal wave of emotions threatening to pull me under. This isn't about revisiting old wounds or dredging up memories I'd rather forget. It's just business. And if there's one thing I know, it's how to handle business.

Three days. I can do this. Three days, and then I'm back to the life I've painstakingly put together for myself. I just have to stick it out—no distractions, no detours, no looking back.