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Stefano notices my internal battle and steps close to me. He grabs my jaw in his massive hand and pulls my face towards his. A dark sneer spreads across his lips.
"Why are you crying? Did someone keep secrets from you, Amelia? Did someone hide the truth from you?"
He shoves me away again, but this time I run straight back towards him. I can't give up. I have to get him to understand.
I grab the front of his shirt. "Stefano, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry. Please, forgive me. I thought I was doing the right thing. I wanted what was best for her."
"Taking her father away from her is good for her? How the fuck do you assume that?" he snarls.
"It wasn't just you." I bite my lip, knowing I'm going to say the wrong thing. "It wasn't you - it was everything - I was trying to protect her from everything. The entire world you live in. Anything and everything to do with the mafia - I didn't want that for her."
He looks down at me and hisses his words into my face.
"But that world includes me, Amelia. Her father. You had no right to make that choice. We could've figured something out. We could've found a way to keep her safe together."
"I'm sorry," I say again, feeling hopeless and helpless.
I let go of his shirt, but my hands are still resting on his massive, solid chest. How can I make him see? How can I get him to understand?
"You can sleep in the guest room." He says coldly. "You can have your wish. You no longer have to share a bed with me." He steps away from me.
"No. Wait. That's not -" My heart is shattering into a million pieces. "That isn't what I want anymore."
"I don't care what you want at this point, Amelia. You should count yourself lucky that I don't forbid you from seeing Elle for six years so that you can know what that feels like."
"Stefano." Would he do that? Would he take her from me?
My heart is breaking in ways I can't even imagine.
He gently pushes me away from himself and walks out of the living room.
I'm left standing alone, again, as my world begins to crumble and break apart.
I drop to my knees on the soft carpet and cry for ages before I can pick myself up and go to the guest room. Cold, empty, void of warmth or life - the guest room.
At three in the morning, my phone begins to buzz against the wooden bedside table. I squint at it, thinking it's my alarm and I have to go to work, but it's too early.
Then I think it's the hospital calling about Elle, but Elle is here at home.
I sit up, confusion fogging my mind.
I grab my phone and answer.
"Amelia, it's Matteo. I'm outside. I'm here to fetch you and Elle."
"What?" I mumble, rubbing my eyes.
"Let me in. We have to get going. Everything is set up."
"Tonight? Now?"
"Tonight. Hurry up. I don't want to wake Stefano."
I hang up and rush to get dressed.
Then I tip-toe downstairs, exhausted, but pumped full of adrenalin, I open the front door to let Matteo in.
"I need help with Elle," I whisper.
