122. Weight of Guilt.

Elena.

While nursing my broken heart, I still struggled so hard to comprehend Deangelo's hurtful behavior towards me. His coldness and dismissive words echoed in my thoughts, a constant reminder of the rift that had formed between us.

The children, always perceptive, sensed my sadness. They attributed it to my worry for their father's well-being, a reasonable assumption. However, they couldn't grasp the depth of my concerns, the heavy uncertainty weighing on my heart. Their innocent attempts to comfort me evoked a mix of gratitude and sorrow. Diego, the youngest and most observant of both of them, approached me with his wide, innocent eyes filled with genuine concern. "Don't worry, Aunt Elena," he reassured me, brimming with hope. "Daddy is strong. He'll get better soon." His words acted as a soothing salve to my wounded soul, a glimmer of hope amidst my inner turmoil.

A faint smile curved my lips, and I couldn't help but chuckle at his earnestness. Diego's innocence brought a ray of sunshine to the darkness surrounding us. His unwavering belief in his father's strength and resilience touched me deeply. In that moment, I realized that even amidst the chaos, we had to find solace in the small moments of joy.

I gently took hold of his hand, our fingers intertwining. "You're right, Diego," I whispered, my voice filled with a blend of emotions. "Your daddy is strong, and he will overcome this challenge." Relief sparkled in his eyes, mirroring the flicker of hope within me.

For a brief moment, the weight of my worries lightened, if only slightly. The laughter of children filled the room, exuding a vibrant energy that pushed back the encroaching shadows. A renewed sense of purpose washed over me, a determination to stay strong for them, even as my heart ached for the man who seemed distant and unrecognizable. Diego's words lingered in my mind, a mantra of hope that I would cling to tightly. Despite the confusion and pain, I would draw strength from the unwavering faith of a child.

While watching Diego's radiant smile, I realized that amid the uncertainty, there were still precious moments of joy and connection to cherish. In their innocent perspective, the children reminded me of the resilience within myself, the ability to find light even in the darkest of times.

However, as I headed towards the kitchen, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Sofia, with her sharp gaze and determined stride, appeared out of nowhere, cornering me with an air of urgency. Instinctively, I knew something was amiss, something I wasn't prepared to face.

Her words sliced through the air like a chilling breeze. "I know your secret," Sofia whispered, her voice carrying a blend of accusation and threat. Confusion engulfed me, clouding my thoughts as I tried to grasp the meaning behind her cryptic statement. What secret could she be talking about?

"What secret?" I asked, my confusion evident.

Her eyes bore into mine, unwavering in their intensity. "Don't play dumb, Elena. I know you're from Amato Pack. If you don't let Deangelo go, I'll tell everyone," she declared, her voice barely above a whisper. The weight of her revelation crashed over me, shattering the fragile illusion of the life I had built. Panic tightened its grip around my heart, and I felt the world around me spinning out of control.

Fear gnawed at my insides, as I realized the implications of Sofia's words. The Amato Pack— a past I had worked so hard to leave behind—now threatened to ruin me and everything. If my true identity were exposed, the life I had built here, the relationships I cherished, everything would be in jeopardy.

A sense of desperation clutched at my chest, leaving me gasping for air. I couldn't bear the thought of losing everything, of having to face the consequences of a past I thought was buried. Sofia had seized upon my vulnerability, using it as a weapon to manipulate and control me.

I felt my heart drop. I couldn't believe that she had found out. I had worked so hard to keep my past a secret, and now it was all going to come crashing down.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, feeling my voice shake.

"I want you to leave Deangelo alone. He's mine, and I won't let you take him away from me," Sofia said, her eyes blazing with anger.

"This is not just about taking him away from you, Sofia. I care about him too," I said, my voice pleading.

"Then leave him alone. Go back to Amato Pack where you belong while you still can. How could you even pretend to care about him when you belong to the pack that killed his wife and children, what sort of hypocrisy is that?" Sofia asked, her tone final.

I knew that I didn't have a choice. If I didn't do what Sofia wanted, my entire life would be ruined. "Fine," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

I couldn't bear the thought of the truth being unveiled, the consequences it would unleash. I felt a pang of guilt, knowing that I was betraying my own desires, my own love for Deangelo. But self-preservation trumped everything else in that moment.

Even when I had whispered my agreement, a heavy sense of defeat settled upon me, I had surrendered a part of myself, a part of my happiness. The weight of my secret burdened my soul, casting a shadow over the love I held for Deangelo.

The life I had once cherished now felt like a prison, built on the fragile foundation of lies, but could I really blame Sofia for holding this against me even though its actually all my fault? I am the deceiver and the hypocrite, I am the manipulator in real sense.

I need to face it.

Mia.

I noticed that Elena had been feeling down lately, and it worried me. She seemed preoccupied, and her usual cheerful demeanor had been replaced by a cloud of sadness. I wanted to help her feel better, to bring back her radiant smile that always brightened up our days so one afternoon, I decided to talk to her about boys, thinking that it might distract her from her worries. I shared a story about Andrew who had done something sweet for me. But Elena still didn't seem interested.

No matter how hard I tried to steer the conversation towards other topics, Elena kept bringing up my dad and the accident. It was as if she couldn't think about anything else. I could see the pain in her eyes, and it broke my heart to see her like this.

In a desperate attempt to connect with Elena and understand her emotions, I made the decision to inquire about what she and our father were doing before the accident. I knew that Elena had been the one to discover dad in that fateful moment, and I hoped that discussing their time together would offer her some solace.

"Elena, remember that day when you found Dad? What were you two up to before the accident?" I asked gently, aiming to strike a chord within her.

Elena's expression softened, and for a fleeting moment, I detected a glimmer of emotion in her eyes. She took a deep breath, seemingly summoning the strength to share her thoughts with me. "We were just... spending some quality time together," she eventually replied, her voice carrying a mix of nostalgia and sorrow.

I sensed that there was more to the story, but I didn't want to press her too forcefully. I wanted her to understand that I was there to support her, ready to listen whenever she felt ready to divulge further. I observed as Elena gathered the courage to disclose what they had been doing prior to the accident. Her voice trembled slightly as she revealed that they had been on the same street where Mia and Andrew had sneaked out to that night. My heart skipped a beat, and a surge of guilt washed over me. Had Dad witnessed our presence together?

The memory resurfaced vividly in my mind. Andrew and I had believed ourselves to be clever, embarking on a late-night escapade, filled with laughter and hushed whispers as we roamed the streets, blissfully ignorant of the consequences that awaited us. Now, the weight of my actions bore down heavily on my conscience. "Elena, did... Did Dad see Andrew and me?" I asked cautiously, my voice tinged with uneasiness.

Elena momentarily averted her gaze, her hesitation palpable. I could sense that there was something more to the tale, something Elena was reluctant to disclose. With a deep breath, she finally nodded, her voice laced with regret.

"Yes, Mia. Your Dad saw you both that night," Elena confessed, her words barely above a whisper.

My heart sank. The overwhelming burden of guilt descended upon me. The knowledge that my father had ventured across the street in search of us, only to encounter that tragic accident, filled me with an intense sense of responsibility. I couldn't help but ponder if things would have unfolded differently had we never ventured out on that ill-fated night.

The following day at school, I carried the burden of guilt like a heavy weight on my shoulders. Andrew noticed my somber mood and attempted to cheer me up, oblivious to the inner turmoil I was experiencing. Unable to keep it to myself any longer, I confided in him about what Elena had disclosed. Tears welled up in my eyes as I recounted the events of that dreadful night. I blamed myself for my father's accident, convinced that my own actions had somehow played a part in the tragedy. Andrew reached out to console me, his words filled with sincerity.

"Mia, it's not your fault," Andrew insisted gently, his eyes searching mine for understanding. "You can't hold yourself responsible for something that was beyond your control."

However, my emotions were too raw, and the weight of guilt overwhelmed me, making it difficult to find solace in Andrew's words. Frustration and sorrow intertwined, causing me to snap at him and push him away. "Just leave me alone!" I exclaimed, my voice quivering with anguish. "I ruin everything I touch. If you stay by my side, I'll only end up ruining you too."

With those words, I turned and fled, my heart burdened with self-doubt. I couldn't bear the thought of dragging Andrew down with me, tarnishing the light and happiness he brought into my life. I ran, desperately seeking solace and distance from the chaos I believed I had caused. As I sprinted through the streets, tears streaming down my face, the weight on my heart remained unrelenting. I loved Andrew, but the immense guilt threatened to engulf me. In that moment, breaking up with him seemed like the only way to shield him from the darkness I believed I carried within.

With each step I took, my determination faltered. Deep down, I knew that running away wouldn't resolve anything, but the fear of causing more pain propelled me forward. I yearned for clarity, for a way to untangle the mess I had created.