Elena made it exactly one night without him.
Exactly one.
The second night, she heard the knock.
Not soft.
Not polite.
Impatient.
She didn’t open the door immediately.
“Go away,” she called out.
“I’m not leaving,” came his voice.
Alessandro.
Of course.
Elena opened the door just enough to glare at him.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
He leaned slightly against the frame, soaked from the rain.
“Yeah, I noticed you like pointing that out.”
“What do you want?”
He looked at her for a second too long.
Then said, low:
“Five minutes.”
“No.”
“Three.”
“No.”
A pause.
Then he muttered, “You’re really starting to piss me off.”
“That makes two of us.”
He stepped closer anyway.
Elena didn’t move back—but her grip on the door tightened.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.
“I’ve been
