Ottaviano ✓

♥ Chapter Forty Eight ♥

Unedited!!!

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Filler chapter
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          •••••••• Jasmine ••••••••••✓

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       I always knew I was different. As a child, I was an observer of life, preferring the edges of the room rather than the spotlight. Shyness wrapped itself around me like a safety blanket, shielding me from the world I struggled to fully grasp. And yet, in the midst of this isolation, my parents expected me to be perfect.

      I was an only child, the center of their hopes and aspirations. Their dreams took the form of straight As, gold medals, and perfectly executed ballet moves. Every day, the pressure to meet their expectations only grew, weighing heavily on my fragile shoulders.

     I can vividly recall the day my "relationship" with my parents started to shake. It was a cold winter evening; snowflakes whispered tales of a world beyond the boundaries of our little farm house. As I sat at the kitchen table, textbooks strewn before me, the scent of my mother's freshly baked cookies filled the air, yet their comforting aroma failed to calm the storm within me.

My father, stern-faced yet full of expectations, peered over my shoulder, his eyes scanning each answer I anxiously scribbled on the paper. His booming voice echoed through the room,

"Jasmine, we expect absolute excellence from you. Average is not good. Average is never enough."

I had one B- in math.

   Tears welled up in my eyes. I felt suffocated, trapped within their insatiable hunger for achievement. The fear of disappointing them gnawed at my soul, leaving behind deep scars that would shape my life.

    As the years passed, the wounds inflicted by these relentless expectations festered, causing deeper trauma. I began to lose trust in myself, my abilities, and even those around me. The fear of failure gripped me tightly, like an invisible noose around my neck, making every step a struggle.

    Every moment of my childhood seemed to revolve around the need for validation. I sought praise from friends, teachers, and even strangers, constantly craving their approval to fill the void within. The world became a theater stage, and I a performer desperate for applause.

   Good job jasmine! You did well jasmine! We're proud of you! We love you!

     I longed to hear these words from my parents but all I got was silent head nods for good job and frowns in disappointment when I couldn't get anything above a straight A in any subjects. Oh how can I forget the harsh words that my dear father drilled into my head about being a failure and how I'd end up working at the gas station if I don't get nothing but A's.

   There's was no time to be a child or any room for mistakes. It was simply lights, camera,action.

    But no matter how many masks I wore or how brightly I shone, it was never enough. The louder the applause grew, the more I realized their adulation was fleeting. Beneath the surface, I remained a lost soul yearning for genuine acceptance.

     My trust issues extended beyond my parents' expectations; they tainted my relationship as well. I built towering walls, safeguarding the fragile core of my being, detaching myself from deep connections. I feared revealing my flaws, scared that any glimpse of imperfection would push Sal away. I knew I was lovable; I just couldn't let myself truly believe it.

So I did anything to gain Sal's approval. Sal's love.

    And Sal took advantage of the little broken self confidence I had and he used that to manipulate and bend me into his perfect little doll for him to use as he saw fit. But that backfired when I channeled all my worries and imperfections into loving and caring for my son. It irked Sal that my shortcomings did not bother me enough anymore and that's when the abuse started.

He was scared I had finally understood my worth.

     My trust issues took a pivotal moment in my life for me to even begin to unravel the chains that bound me. And once again, I found myself at the precipice of adulthood, standing on the brink of independence. Job applications piled high, and the expectations of success whispered in my ear like a haunting lullaby.

     But instead of running headfirst into the arms of perfection, I hesitated. A small voice within me, one I had long dismissed, spoke softly, "What would your parents think? Are you even capable of this?"

     It was through introspection that I discovered my true desires had been suppressed by the external demands of others. I yearned for authenticity, vulnerability, and genuine connections. The path laid before me by my parents no longer aligned with my own curiosities and passions.

    With trepidation in my heart, I chose to embark on a path less traveled. I applied as a PA to the CEO of the best company in the state, defying the expectations stacked against me. And each line of ink left by my pen made a perfect report felt like a brushstroke coloring the canvas of my newly found freedom, I slowly shed the chains woven by my past.

     Through the love from my son, new found friends and self-reflection, I began to heal the wounds inflicted upon my soul. I allowed myself to make mistakes, to stumble and fall without internalizing them as reflections of my worth. Gradually, the trust seeds planted in my heart began to bloom, giving life to the connections I had longed for.

     As I sit here— in Viano's car driving to wherever— years later, recounting the chapters of my life written in pain and expectation, I see how far I have come. I am no longer the shy child craving validation but a warrior marked by resilience and determination.

     “You good gufetto?” Viano asks as he brings out intertwined hands to his lips. I stare at his beautiful side profile Illuminated by the moon, as he concentrates on driving, before answering

   “All good”

  He faces me briefly offering a gentle smile as I return a soft one.

   “We're almost there mi amor, just hold on for me okay?” He says as he turns the car right onto a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, surrended by a thick forest.

    Even though the route he's taking to this unknown destination is dark and scary, I give him a nod back before gently squeezing his hand that's still in mine.

    As I stare at him today, one thing is for sure, the scars of my childhood linger, but they serve as reminders - reminders of the strength that lies within, reminders that I am enough just as I am. And as I continue down the path of self-discovery, I'll remain committed to nurturing my own growth, allowing my light to shine, not for the validation of others but for the liberation of my own spirit.  

And Viano will always hold my hand through it all.

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Hope you liked this little filler chapter 🦋

I was thinking of giving Viano one as well.... would you like that??

Don't forget to let me know what you think about it 💙🤞🏾

Much love✨🖇️