Chapter 124: 27| Guilty-2

Shifting slightly, I took the spot behind him as he dried his hair off with a towel at the sink, and unconsciously, I'd reached out to trace the jagged scars lining his back. His motions never faltered, not one inch of muscle went stiff beneath my touch, and that was rare, that was new. As I peeked over his shoulder, his eyes caught mine through the mirror. So many questions were sitting right at the tip of my tongue, and as curious as I was, caution and fear got the better of me. Withdrawing my hand, I stepped back and shrugged off the shirt, letting all the questions go as I stepped under the running shower. "Are you staying?" I asked as I walked back into my bedroom, tightening the silk robe around me. "Do you want me to?" he asked instead, not shifting from where he sat at the foot of my bed. His hands slipped beneath my robe, gently tracing and teasing the backs of my thighs as he stared up at me while I stood between his legs. "It is late," I mumbled, planting my hands on his shoulders. Our conversations after having sex every night normally hovered around the subject of work and our case. It was never like that in the past, but this time, we both held back. "You're distracted tonight," he pointed out, slowly tugging me forward and pulling me up, drawing my thighs closer until I straddled him. My breath hitched slightly. He'd noticed… "Still thinking about work?" he questioned, his lips grazing mine. "No," I whispered. "Tell me what you're thinking, Anastasia," he said, leaving a kiss on my throat. My hold on him tightened. "I have dinner with my parents tomorrow," I sighed, drawing back to meet his eyes. "They're difficult people, especially my mother." My mother never failed to make me feel guilty about what had happened in the past. I wondered if she was the reason I let my past haunt me the way it did, constantly allowing it to weigh down on me. "I think I'll be okay," I breathed out. He nodded slowly, letting me go as I climbed off of him. "Do you think you can last the night without me tomorrow?" I teased, hoping to lift up the mood slightly. He watched me for a beat before chuckling dryly, "You're a tease, Ms Vitalio." Pushing him away playfully, I slipped into bed and dozed off the moment I felt him beside me, our legs tangled beneath the covers. The next morning, I barely managed to catch Dante before he left for a morning meeting with someone, and the rest of my day disappeared somewhere between taking Kenji out, going for a training session at Judas, and working on the case as much as I could. Before I was ready for it, I was standing in front of my parents' front door, ringing the bell. My heart jumped up into my throat the moment the door swung open to reveal my mother. It felt like my blood ran cold as I clenched my hands into fists. "Hi, Mom." It was an important night, the last thing I wanted to do was ruin it for her. "You didn't have to come," she said coldly. I'd expected that response. "I wanted to," I replied, "I thought we should all be together, at least tonight. At least for her." "Don't talk about her, Anastasia," she bit out. "The only reason you're here is because your father asked you." As I opened my mouth to respond, she shook her head. "Save it. Let's not do this tonight. For Francesca's sake." Spinning on her heels, she marched back into the house, leaving me at the door. After taking a minute to prepare myself, I followed behind, entering the dining room. Greeting my father, I took a seat. Every tick of the clock was audible while the silence in the room was suffocating and choking me. I didn't utter a single word, I was too afraid to as I watched my parents. Both of them crumbled a little more with each minute that passed, the happy mask my father wore tonight slowly slipping while my mother remained stoic despite the sheen in her eyes. "I'm glad you're here tonight, Ana," Dad said, patting my hand over the table. Forcing a small smile, I replied, "Me too." "Of course you are," my mother scoffed quietly. A defeated sigh escaped me as I set my fork down. "I should go," I whispered to Dad. "Why?" she demanded, meeting my gaze. "You never should have come tonight if you were going to run out again." "Camilla," Dad warned. "What's the matter, Ana? Are you afraid?" she pressed further. Grabbing my purse, I stood up wordlessly. "Are you afraid of the truth?" she interrogated. "Or are you just ashamed?" "Camilla, please. Don't do this tonight," Dad sighed in defeat. "Don't you feel guilty?" she snapped, shooting to her feet as she threw her napkin onto the table. "Doesn't it eat at you? Don't you realize that she should be here today and not you?!" Her voice got louder with each word that came out of her mouth, and my chest started to grow heavy, making it harder to breathe. "Please, Mom!" I snapped back. "Please! Don't do this tonight. I get it, okay? You hate me, there's nothing you despise more than seeing me because you think it's all my fault, but just for one night, could you-" "It is all your fault!" she cut me off. "You're the reason she's dead, Ana!" My head fell forward as I struggled to swallow past the lump in my throat and blink my tears away. "Do you hear me? You're the reason she's dead! You're the reason your sister is dead! It shouldn't have been her. My sweet girl… God! It never should have been her, I would rather it be you that died that night!" "Camilla!" The shrill screech of my father's chair echoed in the room as he rose to his feet. Her words punched me in the gut. In all these years, she'd screamed at me, blamed me for everything, thrown me out… She'd done everything, but nothing hurt as bad as those five words. It should have been you. . . . . . Chapter 27