There was a brief silence, just long enough to make my pulse jump. When he finally spoke, his words stumbled slightly. “I… I meant to go back and get you. After I took Antonella home. But she didn’t feel well—her stomach started acting up.”
He took her home.
Before I could respond, a bright, overly cheerful voice rang out behind him. “Sir, your lunch is ready. Please enjoy your meal.”
Rocco sucked in a breath. I heard fabric shift, the faint sound of him covering the receiver—but it didn’t matter. The damage was done. Cutlery clinked faintly in the background, the sound far too clear. Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. For a moment, he didn’t speak at all, as if realizing too late that the lie had unraveled.
“It’s alright,” I said quietly, my tone distant even to my own ears. “I can get home by myself.”
I wasn’t sure whether I was trying to comfort him—or convince myself. The words felt hollow as they left my mouth, scraping against the ache in my chest.
I was about to end the call when his voice came again, low and hurried. “Sofia… just go home first. I’ll explain everything later.”