I stepped aside without a word, letting them pass. Damon hesitated for a moment, maybe expecting me to protest, but when I didn’t, he hurried into the elevator with Serena.
As the doors closed, I couldn’t help but remember a time when I had been in her place. Back when Aunt Lydia first moved, Damon had been just as attentive to me—carrying my bags, setting up my things, smiling as he called me the “future lady of the house.”
Watching them now felt like looking at a version of myself I barely recognized anymore.
Aunt Lydia sighed beside me, breaking my thoughts. “Are you really okay with this?”
“There’s no misunderstanding,” I said flatly. “He’s never let one stay overnight. If he hasn’t explained, then it’s because there’s nothing to explain.”
She studied me for a moment, her expression unreadable, before nodding.
I delivered the gifts to Aunt Lydia and said my goodbyes, but Damon and Serena were still upstairs. Out of courtesy—maybe out of habit—I sent him a quick message asking when he’d be back.
His response came almost instantly, but it wasn’t a text. It was a voice message.