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250 pages, Paperback
First published April 2, 2026

In the city there was time for all of this, and more. Time for the ordinary, to which we normally give little value: the arm snaked around the waist as the other cooks, the choreography of vegetables chopped, the name called from another room (Francis, could you come here a second, Clara had always dreamed of calling), the magazine picked up and flicked through and discarded on a table, the crumbs in the toaster, the kiss on the side of the mouth, the coffee made and brought to bed.
I love you, said Clara. I still love you.
So why leave? said Francis.
Because you won’t give me anything real, she said.
I’ve given you all I could, he replied.
Clara knew both statements had their own truth. It depended on the angle you viewed them from, the light, the time of day.
Please don’t go, he said. He leaned forward. His face was open, beseeching, in a way she had never seen before.