Mr.Brightside

chapter 119

Shadows in the Bright Light

Jack sat in his apartment, the faint glow of his laptop illuminating the stack of notes and sketches strewn across his desk. Yesterday's event at the Council House had been an undeniable success, but the weight of his unresolved doubts gnawed at him.

He leaned back, rubbing his temples. For weeks, he had told himself that moving forward was all that mattered—that the past could stay buried. But the look on Clara's face during the event, the mixture of relief and pride, had stirred something deep within him. She deserved the truth.

He looked at his phone. Her name hovered at the top of his recent calls. His thumb hovered over the screen before he set it down.

"Not yet," he murmured.

The next morning, Jack headed to the Council House, armed with coffee and a notebook. He knew he couldn't avoid Clara forever—not with their current momentum. As he entered the building, he immediately noticed the difference: the buzz of energy, the lingering echoes of the previous day's success.

Clara was in the main exhibit hall, talking to Tanya and Jordan about the next steps for their sensory-friendly area. Her hands moved animatedly as she spoke, her passion unmistakable.

Jack hesitated before stepping closer.

"Morning, everyone," he greeted, offering a small wave.

"Jack!" Clara turned, her expression lighting up. "You're just in time. We were brainstorming ideas for the next exhibit. Want to join?"

He nodded, though his stomach twisted. Being here, surrounded by the team's excitement, only made his inner conflict sharper.

The brainstorming session was lively. Ideas flew across the room, each suggestion building on the last. Tanya sketched concepts on the whiteboard while Jordan jotted down logistics. Clara, as always, steered the discussion, her focus sharp and her encouragement genuine.

Jack found himself swept up in their enthusiasm, offering input and refining ideas. But as the meeting progressed, he caught himself drifting, his gaze lingering on Clara. She was in her element—confident, driven, unshakable.

He wondered how long that would last if she knew the truth.

Later, as the group dispersed for lunch, Clara lingered behind to tidy up the notes. Jack stayed too, his resolve hardening.

"Clara," he started, his voice quieter than he intended.

She looked up, her eyes bright. "What's up?"

Jack hesitated, the words catching in his throat. "I... wanted to say how incredible yesterday was. You really pulled us all together."

Her smile softened. "Thanks, Jack. But it wasn't just me. It was all of us."

He nodded, though her words only deepened his guilt. "Still, you should be proud."

"I am," she admitted, setting down the stack of papers. "But I'm already thinking about the next challenge. There's so much more we can do here."

Jack's chest tightened. The Council House was her lifeline, her purpose. How could he risk shattering that?

"Anyway," Clara continued, oblivious to his turmoil, "I was thinking we could grab coffee later. I want to hear your thoughts on the new proposals."

Jack forced a smile. "Sure. Coffee sounds great."

As Clara left, Jack remained in the room, staring at the whiteboard covered in their collective ideas. The Council House was thriving in ways it hadn't in years, and Clara was at the center of it all.

But the truth about his involvement in the exhibit's earlier struggles—the budget miscalculations, the misplaced priorities—loomed like a shadow over him.

He had to tell her.

That evening, Jack sat across from Clara in their usual café. The atmosphere was warm, the hum of quiet chatter blending with the soft clinking of cups and saucers. Clara sipped her latte, her notebook open between them.

"So," she said, leaning forward, "what did you think about the idea for the pop-up historical reenactment?"

Jack barely heard her, his focus fixed on the way her enthusiasm shone even in the mundane details.

"Clara," he said, cutting her off gently.

She paused, her brow furrowing. "What is it?"

"I need to tell you something," he began, his voice steady despite the storm inside him.

She set her cup down, her expression shifting to concern. "Is everything okay?"

"No," he admitted. "There's something I've been holding back, and it's about the Council House."

Her eyes widened slightly, and she sat back. "What do you mean?"

Jack hesitated, the weight of his confession pressing down on him. But before he could speak, his phone buzzed on the table.

He glanced at the screen. It was a message from Harold: "Emergency at the Council House. We need you both ASAP."

Clara read the message over his shoulder, her expression shifting from concern to determination.

"Let's go," she said, already reaching for her bag.

Jack nodded, his confession momentarily postponed. But as they left the café, he couldn't shake the feeling that his chance to tell her the truth was slipping away.

And when the storm finally hit, he wondered if either of them would be ready.

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786 words