“You’re fine like that?” “Yes.” “Are you sure? I can put another pillow if you wish,” he kept insisting. “Alex,” I cut off the daily tirade “I'm fine, I'm comfortable, I don't need anything else.” He stared at me serious for a few seconds before looking down, turning, and leaving my room. Yep, my room. Since my discharge from the clinic three days ago, Alex had set me up in my old room claiming that he might accidentally hurt me at night. But I knew that wasn’t the reason. A week had passed since Arthur kidnapped me, and my life has taken a 180 degree turn since then; Any aspect in my life was the same and I had to accept the fact that the person I loved didn’t give me the support I expected and made worse my depression. I didn’t know what aspect to focus on, if in the fact that my only living relative wanted the worst possible harm for me, to be imprisoned indefinitely in these four walls, the fact that no one wanted t

Fucking hell. Yes, I was nervous. I watched behind the curtain the chapel where my sister would be married in a few minutes, the backs of the guests sitting on the church benches and... None of those backs was from Abigail. Was she coming? Had she change her mind at the last minute? Or was she hiding out looking for me, as I did for her? “You look like a teenager stalking the boy she likes.” "I just make sure everything is okay,” I told Pierre as I released the curtain and turned around as if nothing had happened. "Hmm,” he looked at me mockingly for a moment before continuing to speak. "It's time, Alessia is looking for you and you're blocking the way for Lena and her father." I looked behind Pierre, realizing what he was saying was true, noticing my sister-in-law with her father just as the wedding march started, making me run towards the room where my sister was with Mom. “Get out the away!” Maggie yelled, pulling me aside b

A year later somewhere in the Atlantic. “Do you have the rings?” I asked Mark. "For the umpteenth time, yes,” he replied exasperated. “Why it’s taking so long?” I said walking anxiously down the altar. "Dude, you’re wearing white, stop moving that much!” My godfather exclaimed looking at me annoyed. “So what?” “That I’m starting to see wet points in some areas...” I stopped immediately to turn to the guests, first seeing my son dressed the same as me in my mother's arms, playing with a gum teether. I couldn't believe that just 48 hours ago, I had just arrived home from a mission and Abbie had greeted me with beautiful news. *** New York, 48 hours ago. The soft sound of the elevator arriving at the apartment woke me up. God... I was tired. It was almost four in the morning and I needed to sleep at least five hours straight, but first I needed a sho