Page 49 of Code of Heart

And it was only then, when hetrulylooked at her, that he saw what he had done.

Aurelia wasn’t snapping back. She wasn’t rolling her eyes or calling him out. She sat frozen in place, hands clenched tightly in her lap, eyes fixed on the table. Her shoulders curled inward, her entire posture guarded and withdrawn.

She wasn’t angry…she was scared.

Levi’s gut twisted with shame.

His wealth and how women reacted to them was a sensitive topic for Levi, stemming from his insecurities. He had escalated it with his tone, bulldozing her with something sharp anddefensive…and completely disproportionate to what had been a joke.

A nervous, lighthearted jab she had made while trying to find footing in unfamiliar territory…and he turned it into a minefield.

Remembering Estrella’s handwritten note, Levi knew he had crossed a line.

Aurelia

Aurelia tried to slow her racing heart with concentrated, silent breaths, but it refused to listen, its beats wild and erratic.

This was all her fault.

Again.

Levi was right. Itwasthe second time today she said something without thinking it through…he hadn’t deserved it.

He made it too easy to talk to him—to let a sliver of her guard down. Too easy to forget that comfort could be a dangerous threat to her survival.

Her jab about his wealth had been meant as a joke—her awkward way of diffusing the tension, of softening the sharp edges around this whole ridiculous situation. She wasn’t used to fancy restaurants or custom jewelry or the kind of polished confidence he wore so effortlessly. The teasing had been her armor.

The way he had responded, the snap in his voice, the heat behind it—it jabbed her like a sucker punch.

Because she knew that tone. That sudden shift. That cold defensiveness that came without warning made her body brace for impact.

It echoed far too clearly of the one who had come before. The one who had charmed her with smiles and sweet words, only to tear her down with carefully aimed barbs and strikes.

The way Levi looked at her—angry, wounded, disappointed—it hadn’t been intentionally cruel. But even now, it made her flinch out of habit, unable to stop the instinct to protect herself. Not because of what he had said…but because of what it reminded her of.

Silence had been the safest response.

So that’s what she gave him. Stillness. Quiet. The smallest version of herself she could muster.

Wishing desperately that she could rewind ten minutes and take it all back. Wishing she had never opened her mouth.

Of course, they’d live in his house. It was the practical choice, the obvious one. She should’ve just said that full stop. No sarcasm, no jokes. Because he was right—she had made assumptions, judged him based on surface details instead of giving him the benefit of the doubt.

She should have been grateful. He had done everything right.

And now...she owed him another apology.

She was unsure how long she sat like that. A statue locked in place, detached from everything. She didn’t hear Levi if he had spoken at all. Didn’t register the low murmur of the other tables or the quiet clink of utensils.

At least not until the first course arrived. The aroma of ginger, soy, and warm, spiced steam grounded her barely enough to breathe. Barely enough to remember where she was.

Not in the past. Not withhim.

Her breathing evened out...not entirely, but enough.

She turned to face Levi, cautiously, and met his gaze. Her voice scarcely carried across the table.

“We can live in your house,” she said, carefully measured. “Just let me know what works best for you.”