This is a sequel for The Ones Who Failed Us. If you have not read that book, do not read this book description because it contains spoilers.
Almost a year has passed since Avalee Russo killed Demetri. Since then, Ava has played the part of the perfe...
Trigger Warning for mentions of suicide and abuse. Feel free to message me or leave a comment asking for a summary if you don't feel comfortable reading. Once you see the picture below, the trigger warning is over, happy reading 💜💜
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Antonio's POV
With Ava's coat in my hand, I walked outside, the icy January temperatures nipping at my nose and ears. I walked over to the garden where I saw Ava sitting, staring out into nothing.
Taking a seat next to her, I wrapped the coat around her shoulders and said, "It's freezing out here, Aves. You better bundle up before you get frostbite."
She turned to me, a weak smile on her face as she zipped the coat up. I extended my legs out in front of me, and Ava laid her head down in my lap as I placed my arm across her torso. "I don't want to see them again," she said, a small whimper leaving her mouth. "I haven't had to see either of them in a year, and I really don't want to do this. I'm so scared, Papa. I don't think I'm strong enough to do this."
The sound of Ava's voice cracking absolutely broke my heart, but I understood. It was scary to know that there was chance you would see your abuser, even if it wasn't real. Even if my father's physically abuse was mostly towards my mother, the trauma from seeing her in pain and having insult after insult thrown at me had left me in pain for years. It wasn't until I met my Alessia that I finally felt at peace. I finally believed that I deserved to be loved.
"Honey, you're the strongest person I know," I said, rubbing my thumb over Ava's cheek. "You got this. And I promise, I won't leave your side at all during the detox. You'll be okay."
Ava still didn't seem convince as she turned her face away from me so I couldn't see the tears that were most likely staining her cheeks. Sighing, I asked, "Aves, did I ever tell you why I started drinking?"
I hadn't told any of the boys about this, at least not the full truth. All they knew was that my father would have violent outbursts when he drank too much. The bitter truth is that those outbursts occurred no matter how drunk or sober my father was. He was an awful man and an even worse husband and father. Well, at least to me.
I was the scapegoat. My father might have been nicer to me if I turned a blind eye to the way he treated my mother like my brothers had, but I couldn't. I challenged him too many times, especially as I got older. I couldn't just sit there and watch as my mother was beaten. I had to do something about it.
It was too hard to tell my sons, but Ava was different. Our connection through our unfortunate shared experiences gave us a different bond. Not a stronger one, but definitely a bond where we felt comfortable to share almost anything with each other.
Ava took my hand, her fingers playing with the rings I wore. "No, Papa, but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I know it must be hard."
"I know I don't have to, but I want to, tesoro," I said, kissing her hand. After a small pause, I asked, "Did you know I have siblings? Two to be exact."
