Chapter 188: I lied.

Chapter 188: I lied.
Aurora

Lucia’s silence said more than words. The faint arch of her brow, the way she shifted her weight—it was all one giant, unspoken really, Aurora?

“I’m going to tell him,” I insisted, closing the folder with more force than necessary.

“Mhm,” she murmured, unconvinced.

“I mean it,” I added quickly, lifting my hands in surrender. “This is the last time, okay? After tonight, I’ll tell him. Promise.”

Lucia’s expression didn’t soften. “Where exactly are you two going?”

I exhaled slowly, leaning back in my chair. “She said it’s a surprise.”

“A surprise,” she repeated, one brow inching higher.

“She told me to dress casual,” I explained, gesturing to the garment bag resting against the wall. “So I brought clothes to change into after work.”

Lucia didn’t say anything at first, just gave me that pointed, skeptical look that had started to feel like her signature whenever Eleanora’s name came up.

I smiled faintly, trying to ease the tension. “It’s fine, Lu. We’ve been hanging out for a while now. This isn’t the first time. I’ll be fine.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, then she finally sighed. “Alright. Just… be careful, okay?”

“I will.”

By the time we wrapped up the last of the paperwork, the sun had dipped lower, casting long golden streaks across the office floor. I gathered my things and headed for the dressing room tucked behind the storage area.

Inside, I unzipped the black garment bag and carefully hung up my work outfit—a fitted white blouse tucked into a high-waisted pencil skirt, finished off with my favorite nude pumps. Classic, polished… but not exactly suited for whatever surprise Eleanora had in mind.

I swapped it out for the casual set I’d packed: a pair of high-waisted denim jeans, soft and broken-in at the knees; a cropped cream sweater with loose sleeves; and my white sneakers. I pulled my hair into a low, messy bun, leaving a few strands loose around my face, then slung a small crossbody bag over my shoulder.

Much better.

I folded my work clothes neatly back into the bag and gave my reflection one last glance in the mirror. Casual, but not careless. Perfectly fine for a surprise evening.

With that, I made my way out through the quiet gallery, the cool evening air greeting me as I stepped outside, my sleek black car waiting in the lot, glinting faintly under the fading light.

I slid into the driver’s seat, tossed my bag into the passenger side, and exhaled slowly before starting the engine.

I had just buckled my seatbelt when my phone lit up on the console.

Leonardo:

Hey darling. Can you close from work a bit early tonight?

I was thinking we could do dinner. I’ll make the reservations.

For a moment, all I did was stare at the screen, my chest tightening. He almost never asked for things like this. Usually, he just showed up, already knowing my schedule, already moving the world around so we could fit.

And here I was, about to tell him no.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard, guilt clawing its way up my throat.

Me:

I’m so sorry, love. I can’t tonight. There’s a late shipment and some reports I have to finalize before tomorrow morning. Lucia’s staying to help me, so we’ll probably be here late. Maybe we can have dinner tomorrow?

A beat later, the three dots pulsed. Then his reply came.

Leonardo:

Sure. It’s fine.

But it wasn’t.

I could read the heaviness behind the two words, could almost picture the slight drop of his gaze, the way his jaw would tighten even if he didn’t want it to.

I exhaled slowly and locked my phone, tucking it deep into my bag as if burying the guilt with it. There wasn’t anything I could do about it now.

The navigation led me through Rome’s winding streets until I reached the location Eleanora had sent me—a quiet lakeside café tucked into the edge of Parco delle Cascine. It was the kind of place that seemed almost deliberately hidden: wooden decking stretched out over the water, soft fairy lights strung between trees, and the gentle sound of ripples lapping against the shore.

Casual. Unassuming. Exactly the kind of place that wouldn’t have come to my mind no matter how hard I thought about it.

I parked and stepped out, the cool air carrying the faint scent of pine and brewed coffee. My sneakers crunched lightly over gravel as I made my way up the short wooden path, scanning the tables scattered across the deck.

“Over here!”

I turned toward the voice, spotting Eleanora waving from a corner table near the railing. She was dressed simply—jeans, a pale blue shirt half-tucked, her dark hair loose around her shoulders—but she still had that effortless elegance that made people glance twice.

A smile tugged at my lips as I crossed the distance. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” she said warmly, rising to pull me into a brief hug that smelled faintly of jasmine perfume.

We pulled back, and she gave me a quick once-over. “You look good. How’ve you been?”

I laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Busy, but… good. You?”

She shrugged, lips curving into a practiced but genuine smile. “Can’t complain.”

For a moment, it was just the two of us, the quiet water behind her and the fairy lights casting a soft glow across the table.

We ordered quickly—iced teas for both of us and two of the café’s most talked‑about dishes: Eleanora went for seared salmon with saffron risotto, while I picked the truffle mushroom pasta everyone online seemed to rave about.

While we waited, the conversation meandered like it always did with her lately—effortless and random. We started with a debate about the best gelato flavors in Rome, somehow shifted into complaining about unpredictable weather, and ended up laughing over a memory Eleanora had of tripping on stage during one of her first runway shows.

I shook my head, grinning. “I wish I’d seen that. You? Miss Perfect Balance?”

“Oh, I fell hard. And no one let me live it down for months,” she said, rolling her eyes before taking a sip of her tea.

A pause stretched between us, and my fingers curled around my glass. “Actually I wanted to tell you… Leonardo texted earlier—you know, before I got here. He wanted to take me out for dinner.”

Her gaze flicked up, unreadable. “And you cancelled?”