“She agreed,” Camila continued, her voice gaining urgency. “She should be here any minute. I thought… the two of you could talk. Sort things out. Maybe get back together.”
“Mom.”
His voice cut through hers, cold and sharp.
His face twisted with irritation as he leaned forward. “I told you already. I have nothing to do with her. And I don’t want anything to do with her.” His jaw tightened. “Why are you doing this?”
Camila flinched but quickly shook her head. “I’m not doing anything,” she insisted. “You just don’t understand your own feelings. You haven’t even met her since she came back. How can you say you don’t care? If you see her—if you talk to her—you’ll remember.”
Magnus let out a sharp breath, his patience snapping.
“I don’tneedto meet her,” Magnus snapped.
He pushed his chair back abruptly, the legs scraping loudly against the floor. His hand came down on the table as he stood, the coffee cup rattling from the force.
“I don’t have time for this, Mom,” he said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Can you stop? This is getting ridiculous.”
His eyes locked onto hers.
“I know you want us to get back together,” Magnus continued, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “but I’ve already told you—there is nothing between us. Nothing!”
Camila’s lips parted, but he didn’t give her a chance to speak.
He shook his head firmly. “There’s no chance. So just stop.”
His eyes hardened.
“I have no intention of getting back with her. Even if she wants to.” His voice dropped, colder now. “I know who she is. And what she wants.”
With that, he turned and strode out.
“Magnus—!” Camila called after him, her voice rising as she hurried a step forward. “Wait—just sit down! She’s already on her way. Can’t you stay and meet her once?”
But he didn’t stop.
He moved straight through the back, cutting across the garden instead of taking the main path, his strides long and angry. Gravel crunched under his shoes as he circled around and came out the front.
Moments later, the sound of a car door slamming echoed through the air, followed by the sharp roar of an engine as he drove away.
Camila stood frozen for a second, her chest rising and falling heavily.
Then she let out a long, frustrated breath, pressing her fingers to her temple.
“This boy…” she muttered under her breath, anger flickering across her face. “He’s going to be the death of me.”
Just then, her phone began to ring on the table.
She turned, quickly picking it up—and the moment she saw the name on the screen, her expression shifted.
Camila straightened slightly and answered the call, forcing a small smile into her voice.
“Hello, Sophia?”
“Hello, Mrs. Graves…”
Sophia’s voice came through, slightly hesitant.
Camila straightened. “Sophia, dear. Where are you? I’ve been waiting for you.”
