CHAPTER 9
Ariana's POV
I looked up to see the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen in my entire life.
The echoes of our laughter carried across the field as we sat together on the grass, side by side.
When he leaned in to kiss me, I closed my eyes and felt my heart flutter wildly in my chest — like it could barely contain how much I loved him.
I knew I was in love. So much love.
“I love you, Ariana.”
My lips froze against his as the words sank in. I’d never heard them leave his mouth before, and to hear them now completely disarmed me.
I pulled back slightly, licking my lips as I stared at him. “What?” I whispered.
Alessandro exhaled softly, releasing my hand before leaning back on his elbows. “It’s true,” he said. “I love you, Ariana. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone in my life.”
I frowned, brushing my fingertips gently across his lips. His gaze met mine — calm, tender, steady. I shook my head slightly, biting down on my lip.
“Alessandro, that’s not true. You’ve loved before... you’re just overwhelmed,” I murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth.
He smiled faintly. “No, Ariana. I’m telling you the truth. I feel a connection with you — something I can’t live without. The thought of being apart from you terrifies me. I want to wake up to you every day, hold you, kiss you, tell you how much I love you... for the rest of my life.”
My lips parted, but no sound came out. My heart thudded painfully, a lump rising in my throat. His words were so raw, so real — the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. My eyes blurred with tears, but they were happy ones.
I threw my arms around him, sending him tumbling backward so that I was lying against his chest, my arms locked around his neck. “Oh my god... Alessandro...” I stammered, “I—I love you too!”
He chuckled, wrapping his arms around me and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I buried my face in his chest and closed my eyes, melting into him. I could stay here forever.
“That’s the kindest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I murmured.
“Of course,” he whispered. “Because I truly do love you.”
A wide smile spread across my face as I snuggled closer, humming softly while my mind painted the future I dreamed of having with him — perfect and endless.
“Every day that goes by feels like a dream,” I said against his chest.
“Yeah,” he replied. “A dream come true... for a short time.”
My smile faded. My brows knitted together.
“Which is why,” he continued gently, “you have to wake up now.”
My stomach dropped. I pushed myself up, confusion spreading through me. “Wh... what?”
“Wake up,” he said again, his expression soft but fading. “It’s time for you to wake up... to the real world.”
“What real world? N-no, no...”
“Wake up.”
“Wake up, Ariana.”
“Wake up.”
“Wake up, Ariana.”
My body stiffened as searing pain crept slowly through every limb. Consciousness slammed into me like cold water. Everything still felt numb, but I could feel the agony building — sharp and deep.
When I finally managed to open my eyes, I was blinded by the gentle light filtering through the window.
From the corner of my vision, I saw Mom sitting beside the bed, her head resting against it. I reached out, weakly brushing her hair with my fingers.
“Mom...” I croaked.
Her head shot up, eyes wide and red-rimmed from crying. The moment her gaze landed on me, a broken smile spread across her face, followed by tears.
“Oh my—Jesus, thank God you’re awake,” she gasped, clutching my hand and kissing it. “I thought I lost you.” Her voice cracked.
I closed my eyes, groaning as I tried to sit up with her help. My muscles screamed in protest. When I finally managed to sit, I pulled away gently, breathing hard.
I force out a sound that tries to pass for strength.
“I’m fine, Mom. Everything’s going to be alright.
” The lie lands hard even to my own ears.
Regret follows instantly — none of this is her fault.
I feel like I’ve been beaten until my legs don’t work; I’m useless, hollow.
The risk, the trauma, the chaos — it’s all too much.
I need time. I need any kind of time to wrap my head around what happened.
Anything could’ve happened. A lot happened. I wasn’t ready.
“No—nothing is alright, Ariana,” she says, and the words drop like a stone. “Your baby...” Her voice breaks. “It’s gone.” She sobs over me, the sound wracking her body, and I lie there like a statue. My face hardens. My body is a block of numbness.
I blink away tears that don’t feel real. Guilt roars through me — a hot, animal guilt. I should’ve done something. I should’ve stopped it. I let it happen. Now I’ve lost something that should have been precious.
“He killed your baby, Ariana... that monster took it all away.”
Her voice trembles. The sentence hits me like a hammer.
I look down at my hands, fingers tangled together. I nod once, small and slow, because I can’t bring myself to meet her eyes. I can’t tell her the rest. The truth is a hard, dark thing I’ve carried alone for years.
“It wasn’t my first pregnancy that was terminated,” I say finally.
She freezes. “What?”
My throat tightens. I can’t meet her gaze; I keep my eyes on my hands and the pattern of the bedsheets. The memory comes up like bile.
“I was pregnant five years ago... with Alessandro’s child,” I confess. Saying it makes my breath hitch. The room closes in; memories of that night slam into me and I want to crawl into a hole. I’d never told anyone. It was a dark secret I buried because I couldn’t bear it.
Mom’s hand drops away from mine. She looks at me, then away, and the sharp twist of pain in my chest begins to burn. I start to cry as she turns from me — like she’s disappointed, like she’s left me there alone.
“Mom... please say something,” I beg, voice small.
She looks back at me, tears brimming. Her mouth trembles. Finally she speaks, voice fractured. “Ariana... you were so young... what were you thinking?”
“I—I don’t know, Mom. It just happened.” I reach for her hands; she lets me take them, but she still looks away. The rejection is a knife. For a moment I feel like I’m falling back into the bed because everything inside me unravels.
Silence presses us for a few long minutes. Then she asks, softer now, “Baby, why didn’t you tell me? Why did you go through this alone?”
I break. I crumble into her arms and the floodgates open.
Mom pulls herself close, holds me like she used to, and for a second — the seconds I need — I feel safe.
Her grief mixes with mine. She squeezes my arms until I remember what “home” felt like.
She cries into my hair and the sound of it is everything I’ve been starving for.
“I don’t know, Mom... I couldn’t do it. I—I didn’t want to suffer anymore,” I choke out. “Are you angry at me?”
“No, no tesoro. I’m not angry,” she says, fingers threading through my hair. “I’m just... disappointed. I had the right to know. You were a teenager when you were pregnant. You needed help.”
Pinned to the truth, I grab her hands harder. “Mom, you’ve got to believe me — I wanted to tell you. I would have, but Dad didn’t give me a chance. Once he found out it was Alessandro’s child, he made sure I was no longer pregnant.” The words spill out; they hurt to say.
“Oh God, Ariana. I’m so sorry.” She squeezes me, shaking. “If I’d known... I would’ve killed him years ago for what he did.” Her voice is fierce and broken all at once.
“Stop blaming yourself,” I whisper, wiping my face. “It’s not your fault. It’s D’Angelo’s.”
She closes her eyes, tries to compose herself, but the tears keep coming. Her cheeks are red, her hands tremble when she wipes her face. “Give me a moment,” she says finally, and steps out of the room.
Left alone, something in me falls apart.
The relief of finally telling her isn’t enough; I’m still hollow with the knowledge that she learned the worst part from me in the worst possible way.
I press my palm to my stomach and try to imagine what might have been — a tiny life, a name, a future that never existed.
If that child had lived, what would it have been like?
Boy or girl? Would they have known love?
Would they have known a father? The answers I want aren’t there.
Even the fantasy is poisoned: any life I could have given a baby would be marked by hell, by Nicola and D’Angelo.
No father, no safety. Only the kind of suffering I can feel in my bones.
I close my eyes and let the questions roll through me until I can’t hold them anymore.