“It was,” I agree with her as I take the bandanna off her head and grab the brush to brush her hair.
“Go get your nightgown on,” I tell her and she hops out of the bathroom and toward her room.
I hang her dress on the back of the door and finish cleaning up the bathroom when I hear her yell,
“Stefano, do you want to read me a story?”
I close my eyes and push away the little tinge of sadness I have because it’s always been me putting her to bed. It’s always been me telling her the bedtime story. It’s always been me and now I’m going to have to share her. “Of course I want to read you a story,” I hear Stefano say, and I have to be happy he wants to do all the things. I have to be happy he didn’t fight he was a father. I have to be happy he didn’t just walk away from us without looking back. I walk out and turn off the bathroom light, seeing all the food has been put away and the dishes washed and in the dish rack.
I walk over to her bedroom door, leaning on the doorjamb while he sits on her small bed, his feet sticking out of the end of the bed, his back to the wall as he reads her Cinderella. She’s on her side
and already sleeping, but he doesn’t stop until he reads the last word. He closes the book and looks down at her.
“She’s asleep,” I tell him and he just nods his head.
“Can I kiss her?” he asks me, and I can’t help the tear that rolls down my cheek. “Or will it wake her?”
“You can kiss her,” I say as I quickly wipe the tear away. He bends over and kisses her cheek.
Getting up and tiptoeing out of the room, little does he know she can sleep through a party.
“I’m going to get going,” he says softly as we walk back into the living room and toward the front door. “I’ll call you later and we can talk.”
“Okay,” is the only thing I can say because I have no idea what else to say. “Sounds good,” I agree as he walks out the door.
“Lock up,” he urges, waiting at the top of the stairs. “I’m not leaving until I hear the lock.”
“I thought it was rude to close the door in your face,” I reply, a tad annoyed, “but if that’s the case.” I close the door and lock it. “Goodbye!” I shout to the closed door.
“See you tomorrow, Addison,” he replies back to the door. I just put my head to the wood, closing my eyes, wondering what in the hell am I going to do.
stefano
. . .
I wait for her to say something else, and when I’ve been here longer than a few minutes, I jog down the steps. My head spins the whole time, and I mean the whole time. Even getting into the car I don’t turn the music on, I don’t call anyone, I sit in the silence and hear their voices over and over in my head.
Did you get lost?
I don’t talk to my parents.
I had to choose.
I honestly don’t know how I make it back to Matty’s house. I park the car and put my head back on the headrest and take a huge exhale before opening the door and making my way to the front door.
Opening the door, I hear the television coming from the family room, and instead of just going upstairs to clear my head, I walk over to the family room. Her parents threw her out of the house when she needed them the most. Because of me.
I look into the family room. “Who else is here?” I ask, not sure if anyone else followed them home. With my family, you just never know.
“Just us,” Matty answers, sitting up, probably taking in the look on my face. Or maybe the fact that I’m shaking. Making my way into the room, I sit down on the couch and put my head back and rub my face. The voices from the television are shut off. “Are you okay?” Matty asks, his voice filled with worry.
I open my eyes and look at them, seeing Matty sitting up while Sofia just lounges next to him.
“You know?” I ask Sofia, and all she does is roll her eyes at me.
“I think the question you should be asking is, how the hell did anyone else not know?” She sits up now and looks over at Matty, who now has a confused look on his face.
“What’s going on?” he asks, looking at me, then back at Sofia.
Sofia doesn’t say anything, instead she looks at me and waits for me to say something. “Um,” I start, but I’m not sure what to say. I sit forward, folding my hands together. “Avery—” I start to say but then Matty gasps and jumps out of his chair.
“You?” He points at me before he puts his hand on his mouth, then putting both on top of his head.