For the rest of the day, I moved through the mansion like a ghost, meticulously avoiding any space where I might encounter Fabio. I spent the morning in my room, nursing my aches, not practicing, but simply reading and letting the painful reality of the morning settle in.
When I finally ventured downstairs for a late lunch, I consulted Maria first, ensuring Fabio was nowhere near the dining area or the study. I ate quickly, silently, swallowing the food as fast as I could, not as enjoyment. His brutal rejection had replaced my grief, hardening my resolve into a cold, protective shell.
He wanted silence? He wanted boundaries? Fine. I would give him walls so high, he wouldn't even remember I was across the hall.
The afternoon passed the same way. I played a few gentle pieces on the grand
