Aria's pov
“You’re joking.”
The words came out before I could stop them. My voice sounded small against the heavy silence of the restaurant.
Max didn't look up from his drink. He didn't even blink. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
He said it with such calm, flat logic that for a second, I felt like the crazy one. Like wanting a private home with my husband was an unreasonable demand.
“Max, she’s the wedding planner,” I said, my voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “The wedding is over. Why would she move into our home?”
“I already told you,” he replied, finally meeting my eyes. His gaze was like ice. “I’m helping her with her business. It’s practical. The penthouse has more than enough room.”
Across the table, Noah’s glass hit the wood with a sharp *thud*.
“This is insane,” Noah said. Hi
