Chapter 154 Willing To Try

Chapter 154 Willing To Try

ARYA’S POV

The sound of birds chirping and flowers swaying in the gentle breeze was soothing to listen to.

Even the sunlight filtering through the trees and the smell of pastries lingering in the air… everything should have been calming.

But all I could hear was screaming.

"You betrayed me!"

The rapid fire of gunshots and the crash of glass. 

I could hear Matteo's voice all over again. His nails digging into my neck as he squeezed life out of me. 

Dammit!

It was two months already now and yet, I still couldn't let go of the ghosts of the past. 

I blinked, trying to focus on the present. Rosa, the nanny, was sitting on the blanket with Dante. He was cooing at her, his little hands reaching for the rattle she held.

My lips curled into a smile. Dante was looking healthier than he had ever been and happier too. 

But the screaming wouldn't stop.

I pressed my palms against my ears, trying to block it out, but it was inside my head. 

Marco's hands were around my throat again and I was reaching for the knife.

A hand touched my shoulder.

I jumped, spinning around so fast I nearly fell out of my chair. 

My heart hammered against my ribs, my breath coming in short gasps.

"Arya, it's me." Dad stood henind me, his hands raised in a calming gesture. "It's just me, sweetheart."

"Dad." I forced myself to breathe. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear you coming.”

He eyed me warily, like I was a wild animal that might bolt. "May I sit?"

I nodded, and he eased himself into the chair beside me, his cane resting against the armrest.

We sat in silence for a moment, both watching Rosa play with Dante.

"Your mother and I are worried about you," he finally said.

I had been expecting this conversation. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine, Arya.” He said softly. “And that's okay. After what you've been through-”

"I said I'm fine." I snapped before I could help it. 

Dad didn't flinch. "You space out a lot, Arya. The staff has found you standing in hallways, staring at nothing. And at night…" 

He paused and shook his head. "At night, you scream like you're being tortured. And it's loud enough that the entire household hears it."

My chest burned hot with shame. "I can't control the nightmares."

"I know.” He shifted to face me. “And that's why you need help."

I stood abruptly. "I'm not seeing a therapist."

He frowned. "Arya-"

"I don't need someone poking around in my head!” I snapped again, my heart drumming too fast, “and asking me to relive every terrible moment I just want to forget!"

"Running from it isn't working," He said gently. "Sweetheart, please. Just consider it. For Dante's sake, if not your own."

My hands clenched into fists. "Don't use my son to manipulate me into…"

The world tilted suddenly and I saw it all at once. Marco's face as I slashed his throat. 

"You killed me.” He growled. “Murderer."

My vision went black at the edges and I stumbled. 

"Arya!"

Dad's voice sounded far away. I felt myself falling, but I couldn't stop it.

And then everything went dark. 



"She needs more than we can give her, Robert."

"I know that, Isabella. But we can't force her. She has to want it."

Their voices floated above me but I couldn't open my eyes, I slowed down my breathing and listened. 

Mom's voice broke next. "I just want her to be okay. I want my baby girl back."

"I know.” Dad sighed, “I know, amore."

Mom started crying and my heart clenched. This was all my fault. 

I was broken and now everyone around me was miserable. I tried to open my eyes but my body felt like it was made of lead.

The sound of screaming broke my attention.

"Daddy! Daddy!” Christabel yelled. “Giovanni is on the phone. He says it's urgent!"

The crying redued abruptly. "Tell him I'll call him back," Dad said.

"He says it's about the Riveras.” Christabel countered and Dad sighed. 

"I'll take it in my office."

His footsteps retreated and I finally managed to open my eyes. 

I was in my room and mom sat in the chair beside the bed, her face in her hands.

"Mama?" My voice came out as a croak.

She looked up, her eyes red and swollen. "Arya! Oh, thank God."

She rushed toward the bed, reaching for me, but I flinched back instinctively.

The hurt that flashed across her face made me feel like the worst person alive.

She pulled her hands back, giving me space. "How do you feel? You fainted in the garden so your father carried you up here."

"I'm fine." I cleared my throat and gestured towards the door. "Why is Sas still talking to Giovanni?" 

The question came out before I could stop it. "I'm back and safe. We don't need him anymore.”

Mom cleared her throat. “It's not complicated than you think, baby.”

"I don't care!" I was sitting up now, my hands clenched in the sheets. "I don't want anything to do with him!”

She frowned. "Arya, you need to-"

"This is all Giovanni's fault!" The words burst out. “If he had just believed me, none of this would have happened!”

My throat was tight with tears and my fingers were trembling. 

"I hate him," I whispered. "I hate Giovanni for what he put me through."

Mom was silent for a long moment. Then she moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

"The doctor called while you were unconscious," she whispered. "She's says you're showing signs of severe trauma. PTSD. And if you don't get help, it could get worse.”

I shook my head firmly. "I told you, I don't need-”

"Yes, you do." Her voice was firm now. "And I'm not asking anymore. I'm telling you. You will see a therapist starting next week."

I turned my face away and she took my hand and squeezed. 

"Please let us help you." She begged weakly. "I can't watch you suffer anymore. Please, Arya. Let the therapist help you."

My chest was heaving and my throat was getting tighter. She begged again and everything crumpled. 

The sob tore out of my chest and I wailed while my shoulders trembled. 

Mom reached out and pulled me into her arms. This time, I didn't pull away.

"I don't know what to do," I cried into her shoulder. "I don't know how to fix this. I can't sleep without seeing his face. And I killed him, Mama.”

My entire body and trembling and I couldn't stop it. “I killed Marco and I can still feel everything!”

"Shh,” Mom stroked my hair. “Let people help you and we will take it one day at a time." 

She whispered into my ear. “And you know you're not alone. We're here and we'll be with you every step of the way."

"Okay," I finally whispered. "Okay. I'll see the therapist."

Mama held me tighter. "Thank you. Thank you, sweetheart."

We stayed like that for a long time and although I didn't know if therapy would help. 

I didn't even know if anything would help.

But for the first time since I came home, I was willing to try.