His breathing slowed the moment the familiar breakfast came into view.
A pink sticky note sat beside the lunch box.
Sorry. And thanks.
The apology and thanks might have seemed random to anyone else, but Damian understood at once.
He was pleased by their instinctive understanding—and annoyed that Layla had been too cowardly to face him.
Still, the gloom hanging over him vanished. He cleaned his plate and even carefully put away the lunch box.
Layla spent the entire morning on edge. Only when she peeked through the kitchen window and saw Damian's car leave the neighboring villa did she finally exhale.
She had dropped off the lunch box and fled without even checking whether he was home.
Now she could be reasonably sure he had seen it and taken it inside.
Whether he had actually eaten
