Andrea's POV"I'm an only child," he said, his hands moving to my back, rubbing gentle circles that were soothing and grounding. "And an orphan. My mom died when I was fifteen. Ovarian cancer. By the time they found it, it was too late.""Dante, I'm so—""It's okay," he said, cutting off my apology. "It was a long time ago."But I could hear the old pain in his voice, could feel the tension in his body. It wasn't okay. It would probably never be okay."My dad never got over her death," he continued, his voice flat and detached like he was telling someone else's story. "He loved her too much, I think. She was his whole world, and when she died, he just... fell apart."His hands stilled on my back."He started drinking. Heavy drinking. Every night, every morning, all the time. Lost his job. Stopped taking care of himself. Stopped taking care of me, really. I had to grow up fast, learn to take care of both of us."I turned in his arms, water sloshing, so I could face him properly. His exp
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