Later that day, Aimi finally had a conversation with her father that was long overdue.
Even after Lovino left, she stayed in her room. Aimi wanted nothing more than some time alone, even if it meant not being around her new boyfriend—something that felt odd to call her Lovi since he meant so much more to her, but she didn't know what else to call him.
Aimi laid in bed, staring at the white ceiling and covered in blankets. She hugged her stuffed bunny, Stella, close to her chest. Her grandma had bought it for her the day she was born and her mom named it. From what she's heard, her mom liked it more than Aimi herself did when she was little, which made it that much more important to her; it was one of the few dolls she had left.
There was a knock on the door.
"Poppet?" Her dad said through the door. Aimi only rolled onto her side, back to the door.
Despite getting no answer, Arthur turned the knob and stepped in. He sat at the edge of the bed. "I know you're awake."
"I don't want to talk to you." She said, voice almost a whisper.
"But we need to, poppet." He said a bit more firmly.
She sat up and glared at him.
"Yeah, about what?"
He glared back, all gentleness gone from his tone.
"For one, your attitude, young lady."
"My attitude?" Her jaw dropped. "What about your actions?"
"My actions?! I've done nothing to—"
"You left me to grieve Mama on my own!" She began. "You've been horrible to Peter, causing me to take care of him. What kind of a father makes their seven year old raise a newborn for him?"
Arthur went to speak, but Aimi kept listing things off.
"You dated Antonio behind our backs, sprung the marriage on us, completely ignored us for the last couple years," She fumed. "And you have the audacity to ask what's wrong with me?"
Aimi never meant to cry, but tears spilled down her cheeks.
Arthur stared at his daughter, shocked, before pulling her into a hug. Her mood simmered and she hid in his embrace. Things were quiet as he searched for the right words for his daughter.
"Poppet, I never—but I should have. I should've seen how badly this has been affecting you." He stroked her back as he held her. "I promise you, I'll do better."
She raised her head.
"With Peter too?"
Arthur pursed his lips.
"Peter is a whole different matter."
Aimi pushed away from him in disgust.
"No, he's not! He's just as much your child as I am."
"Bloody hell he is!" He shouted. "He killed my wife!"
"He was a baby for god sake! You can't blame it on him!"
"If he wasn't here, she'd be!" His eyes flared with old anger. "Emily is dead and she shouldn't be!"
Despite his anger, the Brit had tears forming in his eyes. He hadn't even mentioned his late wife in quite some years. Every bit of emotion that he's bottled up over the last decade had began to resurface.
"Do you even remember your mother?" He continued. "Do you not know what it's like to look at that boy and see those bright eyes, so similar to hers? To see his face light up with a smiles so cheerful and determined that he could have only inherited it from her! To see him so naturally energetic and carefree, just like her!"
"Dad-"
"How the bloody hell am I suppose to move on when that boy is a living reminder of the very woman he took from me?!"
Silence. While Arthur took deep breathes to calm himself, Aimi stared at her father, mouth agape.
"I…" She began softly. "I may not remember Mama as well as you can but…I remember how excited she was when you two first told me she was having Peter-"
"Aimi, that's enough-!"
"She loved him!" She raised her voice. "She loved him and was thrilled that he was going to join our family!"
"I mean it-!"
"She loved shopping for him and talking to him like he was here and let me talk to him too and feel when he kicked-!"
"YOU HOLD YOUR TONGUE, GIRL!"
"She'd be ashamed of how you've-!"
The slap echoed through the room and her hand covered her stinging cheek.
"When I say enough, you don't keep pushing me!" He yelled. "You'll do well to learn that!"
"Daddy…"
Her father crossed his arms and turned away. Aimi ran downstairs, tears streaming down her face.
"Lovi!" She kept calling his name as she searched for him. In no time, he came in from the porch.
"Ragazza-?"
She grabbed his shirt with both hands and pressed her face into his chest. His body tensed up as he stared in shock before he wrapped his arms around her tightly.
"That bastard!" He said later, after they sat down on the porch swing and she calmed down. She told him about the whole scene with her dad.
Lovi tried to stand up, but Aimi tugged him back down.
"Just don't." She kept a hold of him. No more tears touched her face; she was backed to her usual self. "It's fine."
"He hit you, Aimi! That's not 'fine'."
"He's never done it before though. He's never laid a hand on me before, Lovi."
"That does-."
She brought him into a kiss, bringing his words to a halt. Both faces were red when they broke away.
"I…" She looked away from him. "I'm just letting it go because I'm finally seeing how much he's been hurting."
"Ragazz-."
"I thought he was ok after he met your dad…I didn't know-."
"Aimi," He put his forehead to hers. "Don't do this to yourself."
Aimi looked away, to the night sky. About half the moon shown bright, crowded by all of the little stars.
She sighed. "I won't but…I just want to help him."
I know, ragazza, I know." He kissed her forehead. "A-And I…"
He looked away and Aimi waited.
"Lovi?"
"J-Just know…I would never…"
She smiled and pecked his cheek.
"I know, Lovi."
"Later that night, the two went upstairs to get to bed. Aimi reached out to the knob.
'Aimi, that's enough!'
She gasped and stared at the door.
'I mean it!'
She backed up into Lovi.
'HOLD YOUR TONGUE, GIRL!'
'When I say enough, you don't keep pushing me! You'll do well to learn that!'
"Ragazza?" Lovi shook her shoulder.
She looked away from the door.
"I'm sorry…" He paused for a moment before taking her hand and leading her to his door.
"Lovi?"
"I-I want you to stay with me tonight…" He opened his door and guided her inside.
Aimi slept against his chest, Lovi's arms wrapped around her. She never felt so safe in her life till that night.