That was it.
He inhaled sharply, his shoulders dropping slightly, as if something heavy had finally settled on him.
Then he stepped back.
Another step.
His gaze lingered on her for a second longer—hurt, disappointed, defeated.
Then he turned around.
And walked out.
***
Magnus stepped into his house.
His shoulders were slouched, his movements slower now, like the weight of everything had finally caught up to him. His eyes were slightly red, his expression exhausted.
He shut the door behind him quietly.
For a moment, he just stood there.
Then he started walking toward his room—
And stopped.
A figure sat in the living room.
He frowned slightly, turning back.
“Mom?” he muttered.
At once, Camila stood up and hurried toward him.
“You came home so late,” she said, her voice laced with concern. “I’ve been waiting for so long.”
Magnus ran a hand through his hair, his mind still heavy, trying to focus.
“Yeah…” he said distractedly. “What happened? Why are you here?”
Camila stepped closer, her eyes searching his face carefully.
“What about what I asked you to do?” she asked. “Have you made arrangements yet? To talk to Sophia? Invite her home?”
Magnus’s expression changed immediately.
“Mom—” he cut her off sharply, his voice suddenly edged with frustration. “Can you not bring her up again?”
His jaw tightened.
“I told you. Whatever was between her and me… it’s long dead. I don’t want anything to do with her.”
Camila froze.
Anger flashed across her face so suddenly that for a moment, she couldn’t even respond.
Then she turned—
