Chapter 63

• Clara Whitmore's POV
• Earlier, with Oliver Whitfield by my side every single day, life was not amiss. He was an ever-present, discreet figure. But now, with Oliver absent, the evenings at Bristol were grueling, the silence in my rented flat deafening.
• After a dinner that I barely enjoyed, I went to the living room and took out my phone, glancing at it several times. I knew that there would not be a call—not from Oliver, not from Edward—but I was somehow still looking forward to something.