Mr.Brightside

Chapter 78

 Jack's Reflection

I woke up to the sound of rain tapping lightly against the window, a soft rhythm that blended into the early morning quiet. Clara was still asleep beside me, her breathing slow and steady. She'd been running herself ragged with all the preparations for the school, barely stopping to rest. But now, with her head nestled against my shoulder, she seemed at peace.

As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my mind began to wander. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind for both of us. Clara's school was officially coming together, and she'd poured everything into it. I'd done my best to support her, to be the steady force at her side. But something had shifted in me lately—something I hadn't fully addressed yet.

I loved what Clara was building. The school was an incredible opportunity, and I could see how much it meant to her. But in the quiet moments, when I was alone with my thoughts, I couldn't help but feel like I was losing something too. Or maybe I was finding something new—it was hard to tell.

Lately, I'd been pulling away from the commissions, diving into my own personal projects. It had been freeing at first, exhilarating to create without limits or deadlines. But now, as I worked on piece after piece, I started questioning what I was doing. Where was I going with all of this? Was I creating something meaningful, or was I just filling the space?

The truth was, I wasn't sure anymore.

I shifted slightly in bed, careful not to wake Clara, and turned to look out the window. The rain was coming down harder now, washing over the streets and rooftops below. It reminded me of the first night Clara and I had spent in this house—the way we'd huddled together under blankets, listening to the rain, dreaming about the future. So much had changed since then. We had changed.

I felt her stir beside me, and a moment later, Clara's eyes fluttered open. She smiled sleepily, her hand reaching for mine under the covers.

"Morning," she murmured, her voice soft and warm.

"Morning," I replied, squeezing her hand gently. "How did you sleep?"

"Better than I have in days," she said, stretching lazily before settling back against me. "I needed that."

"You've been working too hard," I said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "You need to take it easy."

She sighed, closing her eyes again. "I know. It's just... there's so much to do, and I want everything to be perfect. This school, it means everything to me."

"I know it does," I said softly. "And it's going to be incredible. But you can't do it all by yourself, Clara."

She opened her eyes and looked at me, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I know. You're right. I just don't want to let anyone down."

"You won't," I said, my voice firm. "You're doing amazing things, Clara. You've already inspired so many people. But you have to take care of yourself too."

Clara smiled at me, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper in her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Jack. You've been my rock through all of this."

I swallowed the knot forming in my throat. She meant every word, I knew that. But there was something unspoken between us—something I hadn't found the courage to say yet.

"I'll always be here for you," I said, kissing her forehead. "No matter what."

As the rain continued to fall outside, we lay there in comfortable silence, wrapped in the warmth of each other's presence. But beneath the surface, my thoughts churned. Clara had her dream, and it was coming to life before my eyes. But where did that leave me?

A Turning Point

Later that day, I found myself back in the studio, staring at the half-finished piece in front of me. It was a new design, something bold and different, but I couldn't bring myself to finish it. I'd been staring at it for days now, unsure of where to take it next.

The idea had come to me in a rush of inspiration, a flash of creativity that I hadn't felt in a long time. But now that it was out in the open, it felt... incomplete. It didn't have the spark, the energy I'd hoped for. And the more I looked at it, the more it felt like a reflection of what I was feeling inside—unfinished, uncertain.

I set down my tools, frustration building in my chest. What was I even doing? Was I really creating something, or was I just going through the motions?

I walked over to the window, looking out at the rain-soaked street below. The sky was still gray, the clouds heavy and unyielding. It matched my mood perfectly.

For so long, I'd been focused on supporting Clara, on being there for her as she built her dream. And I didn't regret that. I loved her, and I wanted her to succeed. But somewhere along the way, I'd lost sight of my own path. I'd let myself drift, unsure of where I was headed.

I wanted to be part of her world—I did. But I also needed to figure out where I fit into all of this. What was my dream? What did I want?

As I stood there, staring out at the rain, the realization hit me. I hadn't allowed myself to really think about that question in a long time. I'd been so caught up in supporting Clara, in making sure she had everything she needed, that I'd neglected my own journey.

It was time to change that.

I turned away from the window, my gaze falling on the sketches scattered across my workbench. They were rough, unfinished ideas for new pieces—concepts I'd been playing with for weeks now. But I hadn't committed to any of them, hadn't given myself the time or space to really explore them.

That was going to change.

I walked over to the bench, picking up one of the sketches. It was an idea for a mixed-media piece, something that combined woodwork with metal and glass. It was ambitious, more complex than anything I'd done before. But it excited me, in a way I hadn't felt in a long time.

I took a deep breath, the weight of uncertainty lifting slightly. This was it. This was what I needed. To dive into my own work, to push myself creatively, to find my own path again.

Clara had her dream, and I would always be there to support her. But I had to find my own dream, too.

And maybe, just maybe, I was finally ready to do that.

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