I deliberately avoided looking at Leonardo—my former almost-everything. Over the past few weeks, his priorities had been painfully obvious. Still, today he surprised me by breaking the silence, his voice carefully neutral, as though rehearsed.
“Anastasia, don’t get the wrong idea,” he said. “Camila’s previous apartment was in a questionable area. I wasn’t comfortable leaving her there alone, so I helped her find a place nearby. I didn’t realize it was so close to your aunt’s house.” His gaze flicked to the crates. “Why are there so many boxes?”
As I directed the driver to move everything inside Aunt Lyra’s kitchen, I answered without emotion.
“You don’t owe me explanations, Leonardo. My mother arranged this. We don’t know when we’ll return, so she sent extra supplies.”
The moment I spoke so indifferently, I saw his shoulders relax—an ease that made irritation spark in my chest.
“That’s fine,” he said lightly. “North Ridge is only a short drive away. If you need anything, just let me know.”
As if we were still close enough for casual offers.
What he didn’t know—and what I had no intention of revealing—was that I wasn’t visiting. I was staying. Permanently.