She turned toward Seraphine, ready to comment, but Seraphine spoke first, her tone even.
“Mom sent gifts for you,” she said, gesturing to the truck parked nearby. “You’ll want to check the perishables. You know how she is—always overdoing things.”
Her calm demeanor masked the storm brewing beneath. Though she didn’t look toward Luther, she could feel his gaze lingering. To her surprise, he broke the silence.
“Seraphine,” he called out, his voice tinged with defensiveness, “this isn’t what it looks like. Cornelia’s old neighborhood wasn’t safe, so I helped her find a new place. I didn’t even know your aunt lived here.” He gestured vaguely at the truck. “What’s all this?”
Seraphine met his explanation with an impassive stare. “Mom wanted to restock my aunt’s pantry before we leave. Since we’re not coming back, she figured it was practical.”
Luther’s brow furrowed slightly at her choice of words but seemed relieved she wasn’t accusing him. “Not coming back? The North Suburb isn’t far. You can visit anytime.”
His casual response stung, though Seraphine let none of it show. Instead, a faint, humorless smile flickered across her lips. Luther still didn’t realize this was goodbye.
Monica, however, wasn’t as composed. Her sharp gaze flicked between Luther and Cornelia, who clung to his arm like an overplayed damsel in distress. Finally, Cornelia spoke, her voice soft and melodramatic.
“Luther, I’m so tired,” she murmured, leaning against him.
Immediately, Luther turned his attention to her, motioning for the delivery driver to pause. “I’ll get her upstairs first,” he said to no one in particular.
Seraphine stepped aside without a word, her expression unreadable as the elevator doors closed. Luther hesitated, his gaze darting to her one last time—hesitant, questioning—but she didn’t meet it.
The moment replayed in her mind, unbidden, as she stood there. Years ago, it had been her in that elevator, Luther by her side, carrying her boxes into his apartment. He had smiled at her then, full of promises for a future that now seemed like a cruel joke.
Monica sighed, breaking the heavy silence. “You’re really going through with this?”
Seraphine nodded, her voice steady but cold. “There’s nothing left to explain. If he cared, he wouldn’t leave things unresolved. He’s made his choice.”