Maybe it would be easier if you disappeared. If it weren't for you, maybe I wouldn't have felt like I needed to get away from this family.

The bathroom was silent apart from Aria's quick breaths as she slumped down against the bathtub. She brought her knees close to her chest, as if it would protect her from the world around her, thinking that maybe, if she squeezed tight enough, she'd fold in on herself. Maybe then she'd be able to forget, or even better, stop being reminded of all the ways she'd royally screwed up her family.

As she rocked herself, she let the tears come, and didn't even bother trying to control the situation when the first heaving sob escaped her throat. Logically, Aria knew that her father's words were wrong – she'd known it all her life, really. At first, they had effect; she had those days where his cruel digs and insulting taunts cut deeper than any scratch or bruise. But eventually the reaction she had to her run-ins with Byron was not the hurt and betrayal she'd felt the first few months of his antics; it was fear.

Now, however, the emotions came back to her in one huge car crash. She was questioning everything, and her head was so busy she felt like she was in the middle of a conference room during a political debate. But mostly she was angry. Angry that she was allowing her father's words from today and all those years ago to affect her now, and angry that things had gotten just this bad.

What scared her most, though, was Ezra.

It wasn't like she was scared of him, no; the fear she held was for him. Each time Ezra's fist plummeted into Byron's weakening body a giddy thrill shot through Aria. Finally, someone was giving the formidable man a taste of his own medicine, and seeing Byron suffer just the way she had all those years brought some kind of sick joy to her face. But Aria's celebrations soon dissipated when red blood began to trickle out Byron's ear and the man slumped to the floor, clearly verging on the edge of consciousness. Aria wasn't one to wish death on anyone, although that wasn't to say she hadn't ever considered life without her father's presence – but never would she allow Ezra to be the one to carry out such a felonious deed. If Ezra had indeed succeeded in killing the man, that would send him to jail for life. Her father had wrecked enough havoc in her life already and she did not need him being the source of her unhappiness once again – even from beneath the grave.

She shivered as she recalled her father's woeful body, and the fire that burned in Ezra's eyes just moments ago – the shock of the situation had been enough to send her spiralling to the bathroom. In the moment, she couldn't have cared less that the man who had suffocated her years of adolescence was dying before her eyes, but now, here in the quiet of the bathroom, the guilt began to seep in.

"Aria." She heard the footsteps, one after the other, plodding along like a soft drumbeat. Closing her eyes, she didn't bother to stifle the heaving sob that escaped her throat. He was coming and she couldn't do anything about it.

Her mind flashed back again to minutes earlier, back in the living room as she took in the battle between Ezra and her father. The numbness in her knees, as if her legs were about to give way. Throat closing up, suffocating her inside her own body. Everything in her was telling her to run, just like she used to do back on her old front porch in Rosewood. Because for a moment, Ezra's honest, ocean blue eyes were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Byron's turbulent, storm filled orbs glared back at her.

She held her breath, folding in on herself, almost pleading for the ground to suck her in. She couldn't be here anymore – she couldn't bear the thought of being afraid of Ezra.

"Aria, it's me." She heard his voice again, followed by the rattling of the brass doorknob. It was no use, though; she'd locked the door behind her as soon as she'd escaped to the bathroom.

In her heart, she knew Ezra would never hurt her. He loved and cared for her more than any person on this planet did, and she had been foolish to ever doubt that. But this morning – seeing that ravenous look in his eye, and those once dainty writer's hands turn into pounding fists of rage – he had reminded her all too much of the person she feared the most.

Her limbs shook as she tried desperately to control her sobs; the last thing she needed was Ezra seeing her like this. She couldn't be afraid of him – it would break him to know that she feared for her safety in his presence. In fact, it angered her immensely that she was even thinking this way.

"Aria, I can hear you. Please just let me in – at least let me know you're okay?"

"Stay away from me," she croaked, just louder than a whisper. Aria pulled her shaky hands over her mouth, trying to stuff the words back in. What was she thinking? She wanted Ezra, no, she needed him to cradle her broken heart in his writer's hands. She needed him to create a future for the two of them with his innovative mind.

"Please, Aria. Please don't be afraid."

She felt her heart crack with the sadness in his plea. She had led him to believe that he was the one she was afraid of, but really, she was afraid for him – afraid that Byron would somehow manage to find a way to blame this ordeal on Ezra and have him charged for assault. She did this; she ruined his life.

Before she could allow her pessimistic thoughts to take over, Aria slowly stood up, grasping the edge of the bathtub for leverage, not fully trusting her trembling legs. She shuffled quickly to the door and unhinged the lock, before returning to her spot in almost record time, swatting away at the tears that exited her swollen eyes. She didn't want to look weak in front of him, afraid he would make more out of the situation than it needed to be.

"Aria…"

She clamped her eyes shut tight; terrified of what might unfold when she eventually gave into the inevitable. It had been a task she'd mastered early in her teen years – putting things off. Really, she should have learned from previous mistakes and disasters that this nonsensical method only ever led to more upset, but it hadn't stopped her from slipping to the comfort of her old ways today.

She felt his presence, his breaths coming short and ragged and his stare made her shiver. For a moment Aria's stomach spiralled with immense dread, terrified that Ezra's skirmish with his lungs had been a counter effect of the fight with Byron, and she whipped her eyes open in alarm.

What she saw shook her to the core. The blood on Ezra's shirt was not his own – that much she could tell. But with the crazed, glazed over look his bloodshot eyes held and the shaking of his swollen fist, if Aria didn't know better, she would undoubtedly mistake him for some kind of eighteenth century ripper.

Aria made no attempt to mask her fear and distrust in the midst of her reaction and instantly regretted the decision when Ezra's face fell and his eyes flooded with sadness. He looked broken, terrified, even, obviously at ends with himself and how the previous fifteen minutes had played out, and Aria knew then that the Ezra she'd seen in that room, the Ezra she had feared, was gone, and in his place was the kind, cordial and gracious man she'd fallen in love with.

"Ezra." Her voice came in a strangled whisper before her throat tightened in a sob. Tears burst from her eyes at a velocious rate as she fell into Ezra's open arms, burying herself into his sodden shirt in a desperate search for comfort and reassurance.

He complied, pulling her tiny frame up onto his lap and allowing her to release her dam of sadness. She cried for Ezra – for the preposterous actions he'd had to take in order to save her from becoming a victim of her father's rage. She cried in embarrassment, mortified that Ezra had to see the scum she came from – if Aria had it her way, she would have never allowed her father and Ezra to cross ways, his presence only ever led to corruption of even the smallest ounce of security and happiness she held. And lastly, she cried for herself, for all the painstaking years of fear, uncertainty and emotional abuse that had driven her away from her family and home at such a tender age. She had always tried to be an optimist, too afraid to admit she was suffering – people were starving in Africa, right? That was a more substantial issue to be fussed over, not her dad's ambivalent, sometimes erratic behaviour. It wasn't as if he ever really hurt her…well, not regularly, anyway. Everyone had family problems, after all.

Her tears fell freely, with no one to shelter them from – not even herself, this time. She allowed herself to cry for her years of self-loathing and pain, for the years she'd punished herself for being a bad daughter, when in reality Byron had been a bad father.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Aria said, once she'd gained control of her tears, no longer a blubbering mess of sadness.

"I'm not," Ezra replied, almost explicitly, before seeing Aria's confusion. "You don't have to hide from me, Aria. I want to help you through this."

His clarification caused Aria to stiffen. She didn't want to talk about this, but Ezra deserved an explanation. He had just beaten up the man who had generated Aria's crushing teenage years, after all.

Sensing Aria's reluctance, Ezra pulled Aria's hands into his. "When did it start?"

"Ezra…" Aria started, desperate to steer him away from his choice of starting topic.

Ezra's hands tightened around hers as he sighed. "No, Aria. I need to know. I know I told you the other week that you didn't have to tell me anything if you didn't want to, but this, is a far worse situation than I had ever imagined."

Aria nodded sadly, recalling the night Ezra had stayed over at the apartment and she'd woken in a cold sweat from a night terror that had rehashed a terrifying memory from her past. She had managed to jump around the lines, revealing to Ezra only the very basics of her relationship with her father. But after today's events, Aria knew there was no more hiding.

"When I was fourteen, I caught my dad kissing a girl…who wasn't my mom. He teaches at the local college, back in Rosewood. It turns out Meredith was his student." Aria took a breath, determined to be strong. She wouldn't crumple again.

Ezra nodded, obviously eager for Aria to continue as the information wasn't unfamiliar to him.

"After that day, nothing was the same. He came to me, the night it happened, begging me not to tell anyone. He said that my mom would be angry with me; that she would leave us for someone else. I agreed on the basis that he promised never to see Meredith again, which he agreed to, but obviously I was wrong to believe him. For months I could hardly look at my mom without wanting to throw up, the guilt was killing me. She was completely clueless.

That summer, after ninth grade, he told us he had been offered a job in Iceland. Of course, there was no question in the matter; we were going. He was running away from his problems, yes, but I thought it would be good. I mean, he couldn't exactly see Meredith from a different continent, right?"

Aria peaked up, looking at Ezra through her dark sheets of hair as she shook her head at her juvenile incredulousness. The look in his eyes startled her. It wasn't as if she had expected him to tune out exactly, but the compelling look of genuine understanding and hurt was something she hadn't fully thought she'd get from him. Aria sucked in another breath, hoping that this was enough of a confidence boost to get her through the rest of her story smoothly rather than in truncated half sentences.

"And it was. Good, I mean. Iceland…it was the place where I think I really discovered myself; where I learned a lot about the Aria I wanted to be. But it was too easy to forget that guilt ridden fifteen year old. My parents – things were good between them. My dad was into it with my mom; he'd treat her just like he used to back when they dated in college, she always said.

We had family days, mostly because none of us knew anyone or spoke any comprehendible Icelandic, but it was the closest the four of us had been in years. And it was then that I knew…I wanted to hate my dad; I wanted to hate him for the hurt he had caused my mom, and how he was still technically lying to her, but I just couldn't. In truth, the Byron with the job in Iceland was the perfect father, and no matter how unorthodox I was becoming, it felt good to just be normal for a change. As selfish as it sounds, I didn't want the calm sea breeze to turn into a hurricane. But of course, everything always ends in a storm.

The moment we got back to Rosewood I could sense it. My mom blamed it on jet lag, but after a week of my dad staying late at the office or sleeping late into the afternoon on Saturdays, I knew Iceland was just a distant memory."

Her eyes began to water, and Aria swatted at the tears angrily. She would not cry. Not yet, anyway. She snuck another glance at Ezra, the second dose of his sad smile redeeming her strength to carry on. "I watched as he fell back into his old ways, seeing Meredith at every opportunity he could cease…and I just let it happen. My mom sensed something was up, but I still didn't say anything because a part of me just hoped that this would all go away, that my dad would actually be the decent guy for once and cut off his fling with that woman and return to his family.

But one night, he didn't come home. My mom was going crazy – she thought something happened to him and I just had to tell her. She was so terrified, so worried that the man she loved had gotten into an accident, but of course I knew otherwise. I couldn't watch her chew her fingernails off, I had to do something."

"You told her," Ezra whispered tentatively, placing a hand on Aria's knee. Sensing Aria's discomfort in the situation, he was quick to reassure her. "You did the right thing. Telling her, I mean."

Aria looked off into the distance, her mind sneaking around Ezra's words. Of course, he thought she was a horrible person. She should have told her mom when she first suspected Byron was having an affair, and then maybe things would be different. Then maybe, her mom wouldn't be living in a world of fear and unhappiness. All because of her.

"It didn't feel right, though. It didn't redeem me, and my dad made sure of it. He made sure I got my redemption." She'd given up trying to hold back the tears; the sobs shook her from the inside out as she held her hands to her face. Maybe, if she shut her eyes, she could close out the world. She didn't want to see Ezra look at her like she was a horrible person – she didn't think she could take the rejection.

Aria thought back to the times when her father would stumble home drunk and march into her room, his voice a boom of anger that still made her feel nauseous to this day. He'd yell at her, expressing his fury and sparing none of Aria's feelings as he did so. At first, she hadn't been concerned for her safety – she could endure the yelling and the hurtful words, and they even had the desired effect; she felt like a shitty person. She could trick herself into believing that she deserved the seething looks he gave her as he passed her the salt shaker at dinner, or the clipped, angry words he'd spit at her during one of their 'late night chats'. She could never escape from it, but in a way, it was the only thing keeping her from being consumed by the overwhelming guilt she felt for repressing the secret from her mother.

These feelings, however, were short felt after the first time Byron's drunken squabble turned physical. And that's when she knew that moving to the city wasn't only something she wanted to do; it became a necessity.

As she told Ezra of her teenage years, Aria barely had the courage to look at him, terrified again of the reaction he'd have. But she made sure to expose everything – she couldn't hide it away forever. Besides, she'd made a vow to herself never to let her father control her life again. She'd had a taste of life outside of his grasp, and it was something that she didn't ever want to let go of. It was up to Ezra now to decide if he still wanted her after she'd bared all, and despite the fear and dread that filled her stomach on just the thought that he might not want her after it, knowing she'd finally opened up about her past made her feel something almost like satisfaction.

"Aria." Ezra's voice cut across the thick silence, startling her from her

She looked up, fearing the worst, but instead she was greeted by Ezra's wonderful smile, his eyes filled with pride even after the terrible life events she'd just rehashed. Of course, she could see deep inside his blue ocean-like orbs that the hurt was there, but she knew right away without his confirmation that he didn't think any less of her for the choices she'd made as a young teenager, and that he understood her to an extent like no one else had ever before.

"I didn't think it could be possible to love anyone this much ever, before I met you, and hearing that – what you had to go through for all those years – it makes me sick." Ezra's brow furrowed, as if he were recalling parts of Aria's story. "But you know what? You are an amazing woman, Aria, and I admire your strength and everything that's got you to where you are today. "

Edging closer, Ezra cupped Aria's face in his hands, kissing her gently. "I love you so much."

And in that moment, despite the events that had led them to be sitting here in the bathroom looking a little worse for wear, Aria knew that things were going to be okay. She had a nice apartment, a fantastic job, some excellent friends, and a man who loved her for everything she'd been through and for everything she would encounter in the future.

Long time no see... I guess there are countless excuses for the absolutely terrible length of time it has taken me to update this, but I shall spare you the details. If people are still reading, then THANK YOU, because it really does mean a lot to me.

This isn't the end yet, although we are fast approaching. I still have a few more chapters in me and then maybe some kind of spin-off(?)

But anyway, thanks again for reading and reviewing and following and putting up with my terrible long absences. I promise I'll try and do better. And thanks to the lovely Emily for helping me find motivation to start writing again.

Please review if you'd like, it really does encourage me to keep going! - Kate :)