Third Person.... Agustin De Luca was driving the car through the eerie silent, dark night, not aware where he was going, but he did have one place in his mind. Tears streaming down his face, feeling guilt so profound that his whole body was shaking with silent sobs, for he had killed not only the soul of the women he loved, but also his own daughter.  Sickening sounds reverberating in his head. 'You were pregnant--' 'It was a girl--' 'The report said there were marks of abuse all over your body--' 'Please stop'  '--It said you can never get pregnant again due to complications.' 'Don't.... please don't.' 'Congratulations Agustin Deluca..I am everything you ever wanted me to be. I am ruined.' The car stopped with a screech infront of a boxing club

Agustin's Pov.... "Take legal action against me, I am ready to confess my crimes, Every. Single. One. Of. Them" I said sternly, even though I don't feel even legal actions will be enough, nothing is enough anymore, but that can be a start. Her lips parted in disbelief and she kept looking at me incredulously. "Prove it Onika." I repeated again, I want this, I need this, desperately. She recovered from her shock. Her nose flared, breathing quickened, she closed her eyes forcefully, clenching her fist to her sides and before I can blink she slapped me, slapped me so hard my head turned to the other side. "Are you trying to mock me?" She said. "Is it still me who needs to prove things to you?" She sneered through gritted teeth, her eyes flushing with anger. "How fucking dare you?" She clenched her teeth, I have very rare

 Few Days Later.... Agustin slowly got down on his knees and rubbed the top of his daughter's grave with his palm, ever so slowly as if touching something very fragile, as if brushing off some imaginary dust which might have found its way to his precious daughter's grave, almost in the same fashion as he would pat the head of his child if she were alive. He did it again, and again... and again, the motion becoming vigorous with every passing second, with every stroke, in a state of trance, he kept doing it till his hands were completely tired and he can't move it anymore. He stopped and looked at his palms it was a deep shade of red, he furrowed his brows as he realised he can't feel anything. Taking a shaky breath, he took out the orchids and placed it over the top of the cemetery, with the same frailness and tenderness as someone would show while dealing with their most loved possession, most precious poss