---- Chapter 16 No.16 A week later, Clare felt the shift. The air was lighter. The silence from her phone was a comfort, not a source of anxiety. She was untethered, and it felt like freedom. She and Ben had fallen into a comfortable routine. One sunny Saturday, he suggested they go to a local farmers market. "Isolde wants fresh figs," he said. "And | have a feeling you could use some sunshine." The market was vibrant, a kaleidoscope of fresh produce and local crafts. They wandered from stall to stall, Ben carrying the bags. Clare bought a bouquet of wildflowers, their bright colors a stark contrast to the monochrome world she had lived in for so long. They were standing at a fruit stand, Clare trying to decide between peaches and nectarines, when a voice cut through the cheerful din. "Clare." It was Chase. He was standing a few feet away, his eyes locked on her. He looked thinner, his expensive suit out of place among the casually dressed crowd. There were dark circles under his eyes. ---- Clare froze. The peach she was holding felt heavy in her hand. Ben stepped slightly in front of her, a subtle, protective movement. "| told you to stay away from her," Ben said, his voice low and dangerous. Chase's eyes flickered to Ben, then to the bags he was carrying, then back to Clare. He saw the flowers in her hand. He saw the easy intimacy between them. A muscle jumped in his jaw. "I need to talk to her," he said, his voice tight with a possessiveness he made no effort to hide. Clare found her voice. She looked at Chase, this man who had once been her entire world, and she felt nothing but a profound sense of alienation. He was a stranger. A dangerous one. "| don't know you," she said, her voice clear and cold. The words hit him like a physical blow. He stared at her, his face a mixture of disbelief and fury. "What?" he choked out. "She said she doesn't know you," Ben repeated, his voice firm. "| think you should leave." "This doesn't concern you," Chase snarled, taking a step forward. ---- Ben didn't flinch. He put a hand on Chase's chest, stopping him. "It concerns me. Now back off." The two men stood frozen in a silent standoff, a tableau of past and present. The air crackled with tension. Clare put a hand on Ben's arm. "Ben, it's okay," she said quietly. "Let me handle this." Ben hesitated, his eyes searching hers. She gave him a small, reassuring nod. He took a half-step back, but remained close, a silent guardian. Clare looked at Chase. The crowd swirled around them, oblivious. It felt like they were in a bubble, the final act of a play she was desperate to end. "What do you want, Chase?" she asked, her voice weary. "| want you to come home," he said, his voice dropping, attempting a tone of pained sincerity. "Back to New York. Back to me." She almost laughed. The audacity of it was breathtaking. "There is no home to go back to," she said. "You destroyed it. Now, for the last time, leave me alone." She turned her back on him, a definitive, final gesture. She took Ben's arm. "Let's go," she said. "I've lost my appetite for peaches." ---- They walked away, leaving Chase standing alone amidst the bright colors and cheerful noise of the market, a ghost in the California sun.