"I loved the way you laughed when you thought no one could hear. I loved that you never backed down. I loved that even when you were a dick, you still gave your sandwich to the kid who forgot his lunch, remember that? You probably don’t. But I do."
I pull back a little. Just enough to see his eyes.
"I remembereverything."
He looks at me like I’m breaking him and putting him back together at the same time.
"You’re the kind of person who walks through hell and comes back holding flowers for someone else." I exhale.
"And if you think, for even a second, that I’m ashamed of you, then I’ve failed you worse than anyone else ever has."
I swallow hard, letting my thumbs fall from his cheeks to rest on his collarbone.
"I’m proud of you, Gio. So proud I could scream it. I could fucking tattoo your name on my chest and it still wouldn’t be loud enough." I take his hand. Bring it to my lips.
"You are so easy to love, Gio Fontana. And I love you. God, I love you and I’m finally saying it out loud."
He kisses me before I can say anything else.
Quickly, like I’ve said too much. But the second his lips leave mine, I smile like an idiot. I lean my forehead against his. Breathe him in.
Let the silence hold us for a moment, long enough for my heart to catch up. Then I speak again, quiet this time.
"I’m gonna tell him. I mean… my dad. I’m gonna tell him everything." His eyes flick up to meet mine, panicked. "I don’t care what he says. I don’t care what he thinks. I can’t keep hiding the best thing that ever happened to me just because he doesn’t know how to love properly."
I cup his face, gently, both hands this time.
His cheeks are still damp from the crying, his eyelashes clumped together. But he’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. "I don’t want to sneak around anymore. I don’t want to pretend I don’t look at you likethis. You are the thing I’m most proud of, Gio. Not school. Not my career. You."
I exhale. "I’ll tell him," I say, quietly but certain. "I don’t care what he says. And if a stupid kiss for Sophia made him slap me, then let this one make him—"
"Woah, woah. Wait. WAIT."
Gio’s voice snaps through the air like a whip. He turns to me, his eyes blown wide. "Run that shit back. Did you just say he fucking slapped you?"
I freeze. Fuck.
He wipes his own cheeks fast, and lifts my head up.
"What the fuck are you talking about, Rava?"
"Um," I look away. "It wasn’t—It was nothing, I didn’t even—"
"He hit you. Because of me."
"Well the whole thing was my idea—"
"He hit you."
His voice cracks on the second repeat. His face looks like he doesn’t know if he wants to scream or cry. "That son of a bitch is fearless." He laughs. Not in a good way. "Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!"
"Because I was ashamed, I guess?" I snap, voice higher than I mean. "Because I thought if you knew, you’d—I don’t know! Think I was pathetic or something. A 22-year-old who can’t escape his own dad?!"
He laughs again, and it’s that kind of disbelieving, furious laughter. "Pathetic? You think I’d ever think you’re pathetic? You—" His voice breaks again. "You took a hit because of me, and you’re the one that’s ashamed?!"
He grabs my face with both hands. "You don’t hide that kind of shit from me, Rava!" he says. "I’m not some guy you just sleep with! You are loved by me. You hear me?"
My eyes are wet. "I hear you," I whisper.
