I wouldn't let go
Marco
"Marco... what is this?" she asked in a whisper, her voice so soft I barely caught it. "You're making me nervous…"
Her hands were cold and trembling when I took them gently in mine. It was as if her body already sensed the weight of the truth I was about to unload.
"I don't even know how to begin, Sweet," I said, trying to keep my voice steady even though everything inside me was shaking. "But you have to hear this now. You have to know... who was really responsible for your parents' death. For who really is responsible for the accident."
She gasped. Her lips parted and quivered, but no sound came. "What... What do you mean, Marco?"
I lowered my gaze, unable to meet her eyes. A storm of emotions surged through me, anger, pity, but above all, a paralyzing fear that she might end up blaming herself, too.
"What do you know about their death? I thought… I thought it was just an accident." Her voice trembled, each word laced with dread, as if saying it out loud would make some terrifying alternative true.
I instinctively moved slightly away at the sharpness of her voice, but it didn't matter. The turmoil in my chest was louder than her tone. Her confusion wasn't only etched on her face, it laced her every breath, shallow, shaky, and restless.
Her brows furrowed, lips quivering, and her eyes welled with unshed tears. She was struggling to keep herself composed, holding back a tidal wave that wanted so badly to break free. Her heart was pounding, I could feel it in the way she squeezed my hand. And I knew what I was about to say would tear her open.
"Marco, please," she snapped, her voice almost breaking. "I can't take this anymore. This suspense is killing me. Just tell me. Tell me what really happened. Don't leave me hanging like this."
There was desperation in her tone, a mix of fear, disbelief, and fury. She wasn't just begging for answers. She was begging for release from the weight of not knowing. From the lies that kept her heart in chains.
I inhaled deeply, trying to calm the chaos in my chest as I watched her. Her eyes were so tired, not just from the day, but from years of pain she never deserved. She looked like she was carrying the world, and I knew… after this, that world would never be the same.
I reached for her, gently pulling her closer to the bed. I placed my hands softly on her shoulders and eased her down to sit.
"Sit down first, Sweet," I murmured with as much tenderness as I could summon. "I need you to breathe. I don't want you hearing this while your mind is racing."
She obeyed in silence, though every movement betrayed the turmoil inside her. She swallowed hard and bowed her head slightly, trying to hold herself together.
I sat beside her, our knees almost touching. Then I took her hands again, still cold and trembling. I rubbed slow circles with my thumbs over her knuckles, trying to reassure her. Trying to ground her.
"Sweet," I began softly, locking eyes with her, "I know how much you loved your parents. I know how deep that pain runs. Losing them broke something inside you."
I saw the tears brimming in her eyes. She wasn't crying yet, but she was close. Very close.
"And Ashley…" I continued, voice barely above a whisper now. "Even after all the hurt she's caused you, even after everything, you still love her, don't you?"
She blinked quickly, as if trying to stop the tears from falling.
"Because she's your sister. And no matter how angry you get, no matter how hard you try to forget her... You can't. Because you don't know how to stop loving people you've held close to your heart."
At that moment, she looked at me, and something in her broke.
She gripped my hands tighter, as if I were the last steady thing in her crumbling world. Her fingers dug into mine, desperate, shaking. In that moment, I knew... she was holding onto me not just for answers, but for strength. For peace. For the courage to face whatever truth I was about to lay before her.
She didn't have to say a word.
I could feel everything in that single touch, every emotion she couldn't bring herself to voice out.
Fear.
Sadness.
Confusion.
And that stubborn, unrelenting hope that refused to die, no matter how many times she tried to kill it.
And in that moment, I understood, clearer than ever, that she needed me now more than she ever had before.
"Your twin, Ashley…" My voice trembled. Barely audible. "She was the reason why your parents died… it wasn't an accident like we were made to believe. It was all planned, Sweet. Everything she did… was because she wanted to take your identity. She wanted to become you… just so she could have me."
Silence.
Crushing, deafening silence.
It was as if the air around us held its breath, as if the entire world had frozen.
"What…?" Ashlyn whispered, her voice quivering. "What do you mean?"
I looked at her. And that's when I saw it, the slow shattering of a heart that had already endured too much. The same eyes that just hours ago danced with joy while playing with the kids… were now clouded with pain, betrayal, and disbelief.
"She planned the accident. Your sister did it on purpose. There's evidence now, Sweet. Witnesses. Sandro's leading the reinvestigation. He's filing charges. Everything's coming out."
"No…"
She shook her head slowly, again and again, as if refusing to let the truth sink in. Her tears fell freely now, each drop cutting into me like a blade.
"She wouldn't… Ashley wouldn't do that. She's my sister. She's family…"
"Sweet…" I reached out, gently placing my hand on her shoulder. But she flinched, pulled away like my touch burned her.
"She took everything from me?" she sobbed, her voice cracking. "Everyone I ever loved… She took them all? She sacrificed Mom and Dad. Our parents, just to become me? Just so she could have you?"
I sat there, helpless, watching the woman I loved crumble in front of me. My arms itched to hold her, to pull her in, but I hesitated. What good would my embrace do when I was now part of the pain destroying her?
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "Sweet… I'm so sorry. If I could take it all back, if I could save you from this pain, I would do it in a heartbeat…"
And part of me blamed myself. Not because I caused this… but because somehow, I didn't see it sooner. Because maybe if I had, none of this would have happened. Maybe her heart wouldn't be breaking like this.
"Because of me," she choked out, tears streaming down her face, "because she wanted to be me… she planned something so cruel that it took our parents' lives…"
She stopped and sobbed.
"She's my twin," she continued, her voice barely audible. "Our parents… she killed them."
Her eyes locked on mine, and I saw it there. The anger, the grief, the devastation. A quiet storm was building in her soul.
"Sweet—"
"How could she do that, Marco?" she asked, broken, raw. "How could she do that to her own family?"
I had no answer. None that would ease her pain.
So I pulled her into my arms. Tightly. Desperately. I needed her to feel me, to know that I was here, and I wasn't going anywhere. That I would carry this pain with her. That she didn't have to face it alone.
"I'm here," I whispered, gently rocking her as she cried. Her sobs broke me, but I didn't stop her. I didn't tell her to calm down. I just held her. Let her cry. Let her bleed emotionally in the safety of my arms.
Because sometimes, that's the only thing left to do, to love someone enough to let them break completely, and still hold them together after.
She didn't look up. She didn't speak. She just cried, her tears soaking into my shirt, and I let her.
Even if we stayed like this until the sun rose again… I wouldn't let go.