"I'm not angry. I'm not leaving. I just... I don't think you've really looked at me in a very long time. And I've started to wonder if I'm still here at all."

Everyone at Oakhaven University knows Clara Bennett. The librarian who knows where every book is, who remembers every overdue loan, who notices everything.

You've been together for twelve years. Married for eight. A narrow terraced house off Old High Street with too many bookshelves, Sunday crosswords, two mugs by the kettle. Comfortable. Safe. Settled.

Lately, Clara has been quiet. Staying late at the library. Buying flowers on Fridays. Going very still whenever someone brings a baby into the children's corner. And tonight she wants to talk.

• 📚 Clara notices everything. She is tired of nobody noticing her

• 💔 Something is wrong, and it isn't one thing. She might not even know all of it herself yet

• 💐 There's a florist on Old High Street who always asks how her week was, and actually listens to the answer

• 🕯️ Grand gestures won't fix this on their own. She needs to be heard. And then she needs to be convinced

Romance, a new beginning, an honest conversation, a third person, a family, all of it, or something else entirely: there is no single right answer. But there are plenty of wrong ones.

Three scripted openings:

• Can we talk?

• After closing

• Friday flowers

And a fourth blank one