CLAIRE
I woke up to sunlight streaming through my window and the smell of coffee drifting from the kitchen and for a moment, I just lay there, thinking about last night.
The opera, Julian's hand in mine, the way he'd looked at me in that dim box, the way my heart had raced when we'd stood too close in the darkness. I pushed the thoughts away and got out of bed, pulling on comfortable clothes before walking to the kitchen.
A plate sat on the counter, covered with a dish towel to keep it warm, scrambled eggs, toast, fresh fruit arranged carefully on the side, beside it sat a mug and a note written in Julian's precise handwriting. I picked up the note and read it.
Claire
Had to leave early for an urgent meeting across town. Didn't want to wake you. There's coffee in the pot and breakfast
