His Flower [DISCONTINUED]

32: Abuse

After running back home, I was utterly breathless. The conversation, or rather, the fight between Antonio and me continuously replayed in my head.

I yearned to know what he was thinking. Was he annoyed that I ran away? Hurt that I hadn't addressed his feelings? Shocked that I realized he was being abused?

My stomach churned at all three, mostly at the thought of Antonio being abused. He'd informed me that he was staying at Benny's place for the next few days. I was certainly relieved he'd be safe for the time being, but it was just a temporary fix. What would happen when he had to move back home with his father? Was I supposed to just turn a blind eye, knowing I'd done nothing to help him from the violence he was facing?

I wondered if Romano knew about the abuse. If he was getting abused too. The thought made me want to cry and hug him forever.

Exhaustion overtaking me, I trudged onto the front porch of my house. The lights were off, which was rather unusual.

"Jo," I croaked through the darkness, kicking off my creased shoes. I flickered on the hallway light. "You won't believe what just hap–"

Jo was sitting on the couch in the living room. Tissues surrounded her, and black mascara was smeared underneath her eyelids. With her messy bun and disheveled clothes, I could tell something bad had happened.

"Jo!" I ran over and sat down next to her. "What happened?"

She peered at me with misery. I rarely ever saw my aunt cry like this. "It's Bob."

I froze, fearing the worst. "Was there an accident? Did he get hurt?"

"No," she wailed, "he proposed!"

I unsurely scratched at my curls. "Oh... so these are tears of joy?"

"No," she rapidly shook her head. "I told him no. We broke up."

"You told him no?" I gasped, taken aback.

"Yes! I mean, what was he thinking? Marriage?"

"I thought you loved him."

"I do, but marriage is a life-long commitment. I don't know if I'm ready for that."

I nodded. It wasn't all too difficult to understand where Jo was coming from, but I felt a little sad nonetheless. I'd been looking forward to having Benny as a step-brother.

"It'll be fine," I softly muttered after a moment, leaning in to hug her.

Jo closed her eyes and leaned her head against mine. The embrace didn't last more than a second. "No, it won't." She suddenly stood up, crumpled tissues falling off her lap. "We have to get out of here."

I drew my eyebrows together. "Well, it's late, but maybe we can go to the diner–"

"No," she interrupted. "I mean, we have to leave this town."

"Not this again," I groaned.

"I mean it this time—we've lived in Burnsley for months now."

"Months?" I repeated in disbelief. "That's not long at all. Some people live in the same place their entire lives. You need to stop running away from your problems."

"But I can't face him at work. It'll be horrible," she whined. "I'm gonna browse at different houses online."

Before I could say another word, Jo had left the room. I sighed and flickered on the television. It was the first time I hadn't laughed at a comedy.

• • •

I'd stayed up all night thinking about Antonio. And the night after. It wasn't until Sunday morning that I realized I couldn't possibly go on like this. It was stupid of me to even think I could possibly sever our peculiar friendship. How could I, when every fiber in my body had grown fond of him?