Crystabella's POV
The city skyline unfolded before me like a painting I'd left unfinished. Vivid, loud, and unapologetically alive. But it didn't feel like home. Not yet.
My apartment was just as I'd left it. Neat, quiet, untouched. Except now it felt colder somehow. As if the walls knew everything that had happened and no longer wanted to offer comfort. I dropped my bag by the door, closed it behind me, and pressed my back against it, letting out a long breath.
The silence swallowed me whole.
I walked over to the nightstand and stared at the ring. Still there. Still perfect. Still pretending to mean something it didn't.
I didn't touch it.
Instead, I poured myself a glass of water, trying to ignore the dull ache behind my eyes. I hadn't cried. Not when I left the estate. Not when my father said I had strayed. Not even when my mother hugged me tighter than she ever had before.
But I felt like I was breaking in a thousand quiet ways.
A knock on the door jolted me.
I froze.
No one knew I was back. Not Romano. Not even my closest friends. And certainly not him.
But something in me already knew.
I walked slowly to the door and opened it.
Leo stood there.
His dark eyes met mine instantly, unreadable but burning. He looked the same. Always did. But something in his expression was sharper. Quieter. Like he'd come already prepared for a fight he didn't want to start.
"Hi," he said.
I didn't move. "How did you know I was back?"
"You didn't answer my calls," he said, voice steady. "So I checked."
Of course he did.
I stepped aside and let him in without a word.
He walked past me, his shoulders tense under the dark coat he hadn't bothered to unbutton. When he finally turned, his eyes flicked to my hand.
No ring.
Good. Let him see that.
"I didn't come here to fight," he said.
"Then why did you come?"
"To see if you were okay."
I folded my arms, keeping a careful distance between us. "Why do you care?"
His jaw tensed. "Because I always have."
The words hit something raw in me.
I didn't want to go down that road. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
"Leo," I said, keeping my voice steady, "you shouldn't be here."
"I disagree."
I shook my head. "This isn't the time."
"I'm not asking for anything," he said quickly, like he sensed me retreating. "Not yet. I just needed to see you."
His gaze searched mine.
"I heard about your father," he added. "And Romano."
I flinched. "Romano hasn't called."
"But he will."
I nodded. "I know."
He took a small step forward, then paused, as if afraid to cross a line. "And what will you tell him?"
"I don't know."
"You do," he said softly. "You just don't want to say it."
I hated how well he could read me. It made it harder to keep the wall up.
"I'm tired, Leo," I whispered. "I feel like I've been pretending for so long, I don't even remember what it's like to choose something for myself."
"Then start now," he said. "Start with not pretending around me."
"I'm not pretending."
"You are," he said, voice quieter. "You're pretending that you never saw me."
That made my chest tighten.
"I never did," I said honestly. "Not really. Not like that."
"I know," he said, and the way he said it shattered something in me.
There was no bitterness. Just acceptance. And something deeper. Something that terrified me more than any of this. The fact that he had waited. That part of him still was.
"Leo…"
"I'm not asking you to feel the same," he cut in. "I'm not that naive. But I need you to stop acting like what's between us isn't real. Even if you don't want it, don't lie to yourself about it."
I turned away, walking toward the window just to breathe. The city lights blurred through the glass.
"I'm not ready," I said. "Whatever this is... I'm not ready to face it. Not now."
He didn't respond right away.
Then, finally, "Okay."
I turned back to find him watching me. Not with anger or frustration, but patience.
"Then I'll wait," he said.
I blinked. "You don't have to."
"I know," he said. "But I will."
I looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, I wished things had been different. That I had noticed him sooner. That I hadn't wasted so much of my heart on someone who only saw me as a future investment.
But wishes didn't fix broken timing.
"I think you should go," I said, voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded once, slowly. "I'll go."
He walked to the door, then paused with his hand on the knob.
"When you're ready," he said without turning back, "I'll still be here."
And then he was gone.
I stood in the quiet again, but it felt different now. He had left behind a silence that didn't feel hollow. It felt full. Like the air still carried his presence.
I sank onto the couch, gripping a pillow to my chest, heart racing with things I couldn't say.
I wasn't ready.
But part of me… wanted to be.
Just not yet.
The ring on the nightstand glinted under the lamplight. I stared at it for a long time before finally walking over and picking it up. My fingers curled around it tightly.
Then I opened the drawer and shut it inside.
That chapter was done. Even if I didn't know what came next.
The sky darkened by the minute, casting long shadows across my apartment. I curled up on the couch, watching the lights flicker outside, trying to make sense of everything spinning in my mind.
For a brief second, I thought I'd fallen asleep. But the buzzing of my phone pulled me back. I glanced at the screen.
Romano.
My throat tightened.
I didn't answer.
Instead, I silenced the phone and let it drop to the floor, curling deeper into the blanket I hadn't realized I'd grabbed.
The quiet returned.
It wasn't peace. But it was quieter than the storm I'd left behind.
And maybe, for now, that was enough.