Clara spent the day quietly researching. Concussions, dissociation, fugue states triggered by stress or injury. Actions performed on autopilot, with no subsequent memory. It fit perfectly. The meticulous care, the specific knowledge of his own preferences – it wasn’t an external rival; it was a part of Leo himself, acting subconsciously.
The overwhelming relief that he wasn’t being pursued by someone else was quickly tempered by a deep, aching concern. He wasn’t being unfaithful, but he wasn’t entirely whole, either. These small “gifts” were like distress signals from a submerged part of his consciousness, a plea for care he couldn’t voice while awake.
That evening, Clara didn’t mention the biscuits or the gardenia. Instead, she gently steered the conversation towards his workload, the lingering headaches from his fall, how he was really feeling. The phantom competitor was vanquished, replaced by a real, complex challenge. Helping Leo navigate this internal ghost wouldn’t be easy, but they would face it together.