Chapter 1 #9
He is never gonna trust me again. Because I invited danger in once, so now he has to prepare like it's going to happen again. The house used to be the one place he relaxed.
Now it's just another battlefield. Because of me.
I always thought my softness was a good thing. The part of me that balances him out. The reason Antonio feels safe crawling into my lap at night, the reason Gio lets his guard down in our bed, in our kitchen, in stupid little domestic moments that feel like miracles.
But right now, all I can think is that my softness almost put a target on their backs.
My kindness is a fucking security risk. My brain keeps telling me the same thing.
You failed him. You failed your kid. You failed your family.
What kind of husband does that? I squeeze my eyes shut and more tears fall.
It's stupid, because crying doesn't fix shit, but I can't stop. A part of me wants to crawl to him. Grab his shirt. Beg.
Please don't stop loving me.
Please don't give up on me.
Please don't take Antonio and go somewhere safer without me because, honestly, I wouldn't even blame you if you did but I don't know how to breathe in a world where you both exist and I'm not there.
But I don't move. Because if I was him, I don't know if I'd touch me either right now. So I sit there, breaking down quietly on the floor of the house I just made unlivable, trying to breathe through the panic and the guilt and the image of divorce papers that keep flashing through my head.
If I lose them over this, if this is the reason, then I deserve it. Thank God Lulu and Blu are with Daisy and Lorenzo. If they had touched them too, I wouldn't be standing here trying to fix this. I wouldn't even wait for Gio to decide what to do with me.
I'd pack my shit, walk out of this family myself and sign my own exit papers. I wouldn't need him to leave me. I'd leave me first.
Now what? I just stand there like an idiot in the middle of the hallway. Do I lock the door? Do I go get Antonio? Do I pretend I'm useful for once? Would it even matter if I locked it now?
They already came in. They already did what they wanted. Locking it feels like putting a band-aid on a bullet hole. My first instinct is run.
Go to Antonio. See him. Touch him. Make sure he's okay. I want to pick him up and not put him down for the next four years. But Gio's already on his way there. I know he is. He probably got in the car the second he left. He's not stupid.
He knows what matters most. And if I show up… yeah. I can practically feel it. He doesn't want to see me right now. I saw it in his eyes before he left.
That wall. That new distance that wasn't there this morning when we were joking about breakfast. So what do I do? I lock the front door gently. Because that's all I've got left, a useless gesture that makes me feel like I'm doing something.
Then I look around at the wreckage. Half of our life is on the floor. Gio said it and he was right: We can't stay here. Just the thought of sleeping here tonight makes my skin crawl.
Knowing some random assholes walked around in our rooms, touched our things, knew exactly where we live... no. The house doesn't feel like a home anymore. It's a crime scene.
So I do the only thing that makes sense.
I start picking up. I grab an empty box from the closet, the ones we never threw away from the last move, and I start filling it with whatever looks like it belongs to us and not to this mess.
Antonio's favorite stuffed animal goes in first. Then his favorite book. The blue hoodie he always wears when it's cold. I fold it carefully, even though my hands are shaking.
Next box. Our documents.
The ones I can find, at least. I smooth out the crumpled edges, wipe tears off one of them with my sleeve. Part of me wants to sit down and scream.
Another part wants to curl up and disappear. But my body keeps moving because if I stop, I'm going to think. And if I think, I'm going to fall apart.
Maybe this is the only thing I can do for Gio right now. He doesn't want to see me. He doesn't trust me. He's furious and terrified. But when he comes back, Antonio will be safe in his arms, and at least the first boxes will be packed. Clothes ready. Toys ready.
If we're running, I can at least make sure we don't run empty-handed.
I stack another pile of shirts. Push down another wave of guilt.
My eyes keep burning, but I keep going. I don't know what's going to happen with us after this.
If he's going to forgive me. If he's ever going to look at me the same way again.
But one thing I know for sure, is that he's right. We can't stay here. And it's because of me.
23) Go Big or Go Home
Rava
It's late afternoon and I'm in Lorenzo's car, forehead almost glued to the window, watching everything pass. Noah and Daisy are in the back.
Marco's working, poor thing, couldn't come. Gio's... silent. He took Antonio and drove here alone earlier. I didn't argue. Didn't ask to go with them. Didn't say anything.
I'm hoping we'll manage to talk tonight. For now, I'm just giving him space and trying not to throw up from the guilt.
"Stop being sad," Lorenzo says, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping against it. "I don't like sad Rava. It's weird."
"How am I supposed to not be sad?" I mumble, still looking at the road. "They literally stole everything we have because of me. Gio's never gonna forgive me."
Daisy reaches forward and pets my arm gently from the back seat.
"Rava, we all know that's not true," she says softly.
"He's mad right now, and I'm sure he doesn't even fully realize how harsh he's being.
He's freaking out too. All of you are upset instead of just being grateful you're all okay and nothing happened to you. "
"Don't you find it normal, though?" I shoot back, looking at her over my shoulder. "They stole his bike and our house looks like a tent after a hurricane. I let two random gangster strangers into our home. If I were him, I'd be disappointed too."
"I think we're gonna manage to find them," Noah says from behind me. "Just give it some time. There's no way they leave zero trace. Something will lead back to them."
"I agree," Lorenzo adds, nodding. "I'll look into it too. They clearly knew Gio, or at least knew of him. That means there are connections. And I like digging."
I let out a long sigh and fog up the window, tracing a random line in the condensation with my finger. I feel like shit. Not even about my stuff being in some stranger's hands right now.
What hurts more is that my favorite person on earth isn't talking to me.
"You froze all the cards and everything, right? In case they took something?" Daisy asks.
"Yeah," I nod. "I did everything. One card's missing. All the rest are here."
She nods back. Noah whistles low. We finally pull up to the house. The one we stayed at during Christmas holidays. We all get out and start unloading the car. I see lights on inside.
Gio's already here. I immediately hope he dressed Antonio properly, because it's freezing. My mom would smack both of us if she knew we had the kid out in this cold without ten layers.
Lorenzo heads toward the door first. "I'm going in to see where his head is at," he tells me over his shoulder. "In general, let's keep some chill, yeah? You're not gonna gain anything by fighting right now."
"Tell him that, not me," I mumble, pulling a bag out of the trunk.
"I will tell him," he says. "And if he disagrees, I'll smack him. You need to be on the same team in this. Not against each other. Jesus."
I nod and keep taking our things out of the car.
"I wish we could just stay here," Noah says, coming around the car and wrapping his arms around me from the side, pulling me into a quick hug. "But we're working."
"It's okay."
"Call me when everything's okay, alright?" he says, pulling back just enough to look at me. "Don't forget. I'll be waiting. I don't care if it's 4 AM, just update me."
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Thank you, Noah." "Now go inside," he says, nudging me lightly. "It's cold as fuck. Tell Antonio I said hi. And Rava?"
I look back at him.
"Don't be ridiculously harsh on yourself," he says. "You didn't know. You didn't do it on purpose. Okay?"
My eyes sting immediately. I smile a little, watery, and hug him tight.
"I really want to believe that," I say. "Even if I can't yet.
" He squeezes my shoulder and lets go. I exhale, wave at them both.
Lorenzo comes back down the steps just as they're about to leave.
"He's about to get in the shower," he tells me.
"He's still a bit wired, but definitely not as bad as before. Try talking to him."
I nod again. I think that's all I've been doing today.
Nodding. "Goodbye, baby," Lorenzo says, kissing my forehead dramatically. "Good luck. If you find anything out, call us."
"Thank you, Lorenzo," I say with a small smile.
He heads back to the car, and I turn toward the house. I walk up to the door, and step inside, closing it behind me and locking every single lock.
I walk down the hallway slowly. I feel like I don't belong here with them. Like I'm walking into someone else's life. This is the room where at Christmas I sat on the edge of the bed with a thermometer and tissues, forcing tea down Gio's throat while he shivered.
Now he can't even look at me. I feel like I crashed a party I wasn't invited to. I push the bedroom door open and step inside with our bags, placing them down quietly near the dresser, trying not to make noise.
"Hi," I say, with a small voice. Antonio lifts his little hand immediately and waves, then walks over to me. I scoop him up and he tucks himself under my chin, completely unaware of how fucked everything is.
Gio doesn't say hi. Doesn't nod. Doesn't even glance at me. I swallow it down and focus on the fact that our kid is here, in my arms, safe. "Hey, bean," I murmur, pressing a kiss against his hair. "You're not cold, right?"