He felt her touch him, Clara is certain of it, just like she knew the very first time he was able to see her. But he doesn't say anything. He thinks he dreamed it.

"Clara." Nolan props himself up on his elbows. "I'm so sorry. I just—yesterday was a bad day. Are you mad at me?"

Clara is not mad at him. Not anymore. He is sincere in his remorse and Clara, never having the occasion to hold a grudge before, is not about to start now, especially when what just happened, happened.

She shakes her head. Nolan lifts his hand until it almost brushes her face and then pulls it back. It's an act which, if Clara wasn't already breathless, would have left her feeling so.

Clara should be the one apologizing. Nolan's near touch was done out of kindness, whereas her actual touch was a petty act of revenge.

Clara is not raking up the good karma points today.

She should confess. She should tell him what happened. But Clara doesn't really comprehend what happened. What would she say that would make any kind of sense to either of them?

She's at a loss for words, and the way he's staring at her, all anticipation and hunger nervousness—it's not making this easier.

"I missed you," she mouths.

"Me too."

"Will you meet me back here in time for the sunset tonight?"

Nolan's face contorts slightly when she says this, and for a moment, she fears he's about to reject her again. Then he forces the muscles in his lower jaw into a more pleasant arrangement and says, "Of course. I'll be here."

Relieved, Clara smiles.

"I promise," he adds, but to Clara it sounds like he says this more for his own benefit than for hers.