As the doors closed, the mirrored surface caught a fleeting image: Camila’s expression full of gratitude, Leonardo standing protectively at her side. The sight dragged an old memory to the surface—years ago, when he had first asked me to move in with him, smiling as he carried my luggage himself, joking that I was already halfway to becoming his wife.
Aunt Lyra exhaled slowly. “Are you sure you’re all right with this, Anastasia?”
I offered her a restrained smile.
“It doesn’t matter whether I am or not. If this is where his devotion lies, then I’ll accept it.”
Once the deliveries were finished, I decided to leave before my patience gave out. I waited outside for the car, but Leonardo and Camila still hadn’t come down. Out of courtesy—to what once existed between us—I sent him a brief text.
Are you heading back soon?
The reply arrived almost instantly, but not as a text. A voice message.
When I pressed play, Camila’s gentle, almost syrupy tone flowed through the speaker.
“Anastasia, Leonardo is helping me repair some electrical issues here. The place has been empty for a while, so there’s quite a bit to fix. You should go on ahead—don’t wait for us.”