𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀

𝟔

❣︎

ADRIANA

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of someone knocking on my door.

Still groggy, I mumbled, "Come in," without opening my eyes, snuggled deeper into the queen-sized bed.

"Good morning, farfalla," my father greeted as he entered the room, his tone cheerful but with an undertone I couldn't quite place.

I felt his presence at the foot of my bed and forced my eyes open.

"Good morning," I replied sleepily, blinking against the morning light. My father's face wore a smile, but his eyes betrayed a hint of worry.

"I need to speak to you about something," he said, his voice gentle yet serious.

My heart skipped a beat, and I sat up, pushing the covers aside.

"Okay," I said nervously, my mind racing through possible scenarios.

He took a deep breath, then continued, "Some of the others have seen your scars."

He didn't specify who, but I knew he was talking about Roman. Roman must have told his father, who then told mine.

My stomach tightened, and I looked down at my hands, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over me.

"You don't have to tell them what happened," my father said, his voice soft and reassuring. "But if you want me to explain it to them, I will. You don't have to go through it alone."

I took a moment to think about it. I hated talking about my past, about what my stepfather did to me.

The memories were painful, and reliving them was even worse. But the thought of explaining it myself was unbearable.

I'd rather just get it over with and not have to face the questions and pity.

"Just tell them," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "Tell Alejandro, Hector, Ana, Javier, Roman, Hugo, and Raúl. I don't want to talk about it."

He nodded, understanding. "Alright, I'll take care of it. Do you want to have breakfast in your room?"

I nodded, grateful for the offer. "Yes, please. That would be nice."

"And the rest of the family has arrived morning," he added, a smile breaking through his concerned expression.

A genuine smile spread across my face. "Really? I can't wait to see them again."

He leaned down and kissed my forehead. "Your breakfast will be up soon, farfalla. Take your time getting ready. We'll be here when you're ready to come down."

"Thanks, Dad," I said, feeling a bit lighter knowing that he would handle the difficult conversation for me.

As he left the room, I lay back down, staring at the ceiling. I felt a mix of emotions—relief, anxiety, and anticipation for the day ahead.

But most of all, I felt a sense of gratitude for my father's understanding and support.

❣︎

ROMAN

"Adriana's scars are from her mother and stepfather," her father said, his voice steady but filled with an underlying anger and sadness.

   "They... they hurt her in ways no one should ever experience. She didn't want to talk about it herself, so I'm telling you all this now."

Sitting at the long dining table, I listened intently as Adriana's father spoke.