The afternoon started with the girls gathered around the table, laughter echoing as they “spilled the tea.” The topic? Clay.
Everyone had a theory about who Clay had his eyes on, and the whispers were moving faster than the steam rising from their cups.
Clay walking away from the past wasn’t a failure; it was the most honest move he could make.
​While the gossip swirled at the table, Clay was already moving in a different direction.
Clay approached Ivee gently, without the need to chase.
When he reached out to take her hand, it wasn’t a demand—it was a greeting.
It was presence.​
“Some connections grow best when they’re allowed to breathe.”
— Clay
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