In Love With My Ex's Cousin

CHAPTER FOUR

By the time I returned to the office the rain had settled into a steady, unhurried fall.

Sofia was waiting at my desk with two coffees and an expression that said she had been refreshing her phone every thirty seconds.

She pushed one of the cups toward me the moment I sat down.

“Talk.”

I took a sip. It was still hot. “There’s not much to say.”

“Elena.”

“It’s a full redesign. Empty apartment. He wants something quiet. I’m sending preliminary concepts in ten days.”

Sofia stared at me. “That’s the professional version. Give me the real one.”

I set the cup down and looked at the rain trailing down the window beside my desk.

“He remembered,” I said finally. “The night at the party. He brought it up before I left.”

Sofia’s voice softened. “What did he say?”

“That he should have told me about Matteo. Even though he didn’t know me.”

She was quiet for a moment. “And how do you feel about that?”

I didn’t answer immediately. The truth was more complicated than a single feeling. Part of me appreciated the honesty. Another part of me wished he had left the past where it belonged.

“I don’t know yet,” I said.

Sofia nodded, accepting that for now. “Are you okay working with him?”

“It’s a job.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I met her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she let it go. “Marcus already told the team you’re taking the lead on it. He seemed pleased.”

Of course he was. A Moretti project carried weight, even if no one in the office knew the personal history attached to the name.

I spent the rest of the afternoon on the Hawthorne revisions, answering emails, and trying not to open the card Luca had given me more than once. His private email address sat in my desk drawer like something I hadn’t decided whether to keep.

At six-thirty the floor had mostly emptied. I packed my things, said goodnight to the two junior designers still working, and left.

The rain had eased by the time I reached my apartment. I changed into an oversized shirt and leggings, tied my hair up, and ordered food without much thought. While I waited, I opened my laptop and created a new project folder.

**18 Riverside Drive – L. Moretti**

I stared at the empty document for a long time.

Then I began to work.

I pulled reference images first — not the usual polished interiors clients expected, but quieter ones. Spaces with weight. Rooms that felt lived-in without trying. Natural materials. Soft, low lighting. Furniture with clean lines and no unnecessary decoration.

Quiet, he had said.

I could work with quiet.

By the time the food arrived I had three rough direction boards started. I ate at the counter, scrolling through material options between bites, making notes in the margins of my sketchbook.

At ten I forced myself to stop.

I closed the laptop, washed the single plate I had used, and went to stand by the window with a glass of water. The city lights blurred slightly in the residual rain. Somewhere across the river, 18 Riverside Drive sat empty, waiting for decisions I hadn’t fully made yet.

My phone lit up on the counter.

A new email.

I almost didn’t check it.

Then I did.

From: Luca Moretti

Subject: Access

Elena,

The building manager has been instructed to give you full access to the property at any time. A set of keys will be available at the front desk tomorrow morning under your name.

If you need anything else, tell me directly.

— Luca

Short. Precise. No unnecessary words.

I read it twice.

Then I typed a reply.

Thank you. I’ll collect the keys in the morning.

I almost stopped there.

Instead I added one more line.

I’ll send the preliminary concepts as discussed.

I sent it before I could second-guess the tone.

His response arrived four minutes later.

Good.

That was all.

I set the phone down and looked at my own reflection in the dark window. The apartment felt very quiet around me. The same kind of quiet he had asked for in a home he hadn’t lived in yet.

I turned off the lights one by one and went to bed earlier than usual.

Sleep took longer than I wanted it to.

When it finally came, it carried the faint memory of dark grey eyes watching me across an empty room, and the sound of rain against glass that wasn’t mine.