The physical and emotional abuse that threw me into an endless abyss. That's what he called the past.
Refusing to forgive Elara wasn't about being petty. He was the one who took me to the hospital back then. He knows better than anyone how deeply I loathe my stepmother and her daughter, what Vittoria and Elara did to me in the years behind my father's back. Yet he chose to fall in love with Elara and align himself against me.
When Ansel reached out to take my hand, trying to broker peace with Elara, I slapped his hand away.
"Ansel, what gives you the right to ask me to forgive them?" I asked sharply.
Behind my father's back, they abused me, tricked him into despising me. And after Don Valente's passing, they didn't even bother with the funeral rites. In this world, that alone was an act of dishonor that should have severed every tie between our families permanently.
Ansel looked at the back of his hand, now red from where I had slapped him, and frowned in confusion and discontent.
"Serafina, I'm trying to help you. You're without parents now, and Vittoria and Elara are the only family you have left. Why hold on to the past and continue to suffer?"
"You need to move forward, don't you?"