Page 11 of Her Overprotective Fiance

"Damn you. Damn you. Damn you."

All I can do is hit the rug repeatedly with my fists as I sob and scream.

"Damn you. Damn you. DAMN YOU!"

The words pour out of me like bile, but it doesn't make anything easier or less hurtful.

"I'm sorry,bambina. I really am."

My chest feels like it's about to explode again.

Why, God, why?

This woman is all but a stranger, so why is she the one saying sorry?

Why is she the one speaking to me the way I've always wished my father would speak to me...but never did?

"Some of my grandchildren have suffered and continue to suffer from the same pain you are feeling now. But just as I was unable to spare them from their own pain, I am sorry to say that I cannot spare you from yours."

The empathy in her gaze is unbearable.

Why? God? Why?

It's my first time to think of God my whole life.

I don't even know if he's real.

But if he is, then dammit, I want to ask why.

Why, God, why?

"The only thing I can do for you is what I have done for my own grandchildren."

Sobs rock my body as I feelSignoraMarchetti gently cup my chin and lift my gaze to hers.

"Today, you are allowed to grieve. You can stay in your room the whole day if you wish. You do not need to see or talk to anyone. You can do whatever you want."

Except die,I think dully.

Because right now, I can't think of a single reason why I should even keep living.

"But come tomorrow, you must learn to accept the truth."

Truth?What truth? And why should I even care?

"Esteban mayneverbe the father you want him to be. You can spend your whole life chasing after him and doing what you can to win his approval, but it will not matter. Your father will only change if hechoosesto do so. And that's always what life boils down to. The choices we make are what shapes us."

SignoraMarchetti motions me to stand, and even though I've always been a rebellious little shit, I actually find myself clumsily rising to my feet.

"And that is why you are here."

I know her words are supposed to give me hope, but all I feel is guilt.

"I'm sorry," I say unevenly. "You couldn't possibly have wanted—-"

The matriarch raises a bejeweled hand, and I shut up.

"Do you think I am where I am now because I think like everyone else does?"

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