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... > Her heart, already racing, seemed to lurch and then stall as the words landed. She stared at the man in front of her, at the sharp planes of his face and the coldness in his eyes, at the way his shirt hung open, revealing a chest as unmoved as his voice. He was watching her—expression unreadable, arms loosely by his sides, waiting to see if she’d crumble.

"I am trying," she said, her voice cracking, thin with frustration. "But I can’t..."

He didn’t soften even a little.

...

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Sitting under the ginkgo tree in leisure time, looking at the dust and clouds in the distance,

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—————

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