Page 28 of Love, Amy

Aurelio grows worried. “I’m very sorry if we are inconveniencing you.”

Monfils smiles gently at him. “Madame Amy told me that you are a lover of the stars. I promise you, you are in the right place.”

Aurelio squeezes my hand. “And with the right woman.”

I blush a little at the compliment. Monfils’ gaze travels knowingly between us. “I cannot disagree, Monsieur.” He walks down the long hallway. “Come, let me show you our history.”

Aurelio listens with childlike wonder as Monfils walks us through a small section of the Observatory that functions almost as a museum. There are telescopes that were used when the Observatory was first opened in the 17th century. There is a letter from King Louis XIV sanctioning the funding needed to open the Observatory. There is a section about the study of Time and a group called the International Time Bureau. There are numerous maps of the stars, planets, and our solar system, each one more faded and fraying than the last. Aurelio and Monfils carry on most of the conversation, but Aurelio never lets go of my hand.

I spend most of the evening watching his face. I see the stars every day. How often will I see Aurelio so happy? And know, that somehow, it was me that made him feel that way?

Monfils eventually picks up on my disinterest. “My apologies, Madame Amy.” He frowns. “We have not been including you in our discussion.”

I try to reassure him. “I heard every word, I promise. I just didn’t understand a lot of it.”

His face lights up with an idea. “It is much easier to understand in the actual observatory. Come!”

He backs up, heading down the original hallway, towards the area that houses the white dome. Aurelio and I exchange confused glances. “I thought it was no longer in use?” I ask. “Wasn’t the telescope there retired due to all the light pollution?”

Monfils nods like I’m a student of his. “Oui. Very good. But now we use the space for something else.”

My breath catches when we walk into the observatory. The domed ceiling is as huge and vaulted as expected. I feel small and silent, as though I just stepped foot in a cathedral. There’s a large, complex-looking telescope still in the room, but it’s not pointed at anything. Monfils leads us closer to the telescope and the center of the circular space. On one side, there is also a stand with a computer and some other tech equipment on it. He walks over to it, turning on the computer and messing with some chords. We make to follow, but Monfils holds up a hand. “Stay,” he orders. “Wait one moment.”

We do as he asks, not daring to argue in such a sacred space. Aurelio looks down at me, gaze tender. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “For such a perfect gift.”

“Date,” I correct him, leaning into his shoulder. “Perfect date.”

He shakes his head. “Every date with you is a gift.”

Before I can respond, the room goes dark. “Maybe this will capture your attention, Madame Amy.” Monfils’ teasing voice cuts through the darkness. “Behold the stars, as Paris’ astronomers would have seen them the year the Observatory opened in 1667.”

The dome above us erupts in a dazzling display of stars, planets, and velvet sky. Even though I know it’s only a projection, it looks so clear. It reminds me of visiting the planetarium in grade school but on a larger scale. I feel insignificant, in a good way. I wonder if that’s one of the reasons Aurelio is able to stay so humble despite being one of the greatest tennis players in the world. The longer you stare at the stars, the smaller you feel.

Even Beck Bowman means nothing to infinite space. I let go of Aurelio’s hand, spinning in place to see as much as I can. My skirt flutters around my hips, as though I’m dancing among the stars. I wish I knew the name of the constellations. I wish I knew the stories that go with them. I turn to ask Aurelio but stop when I see Monfils approaching us. “This is the end of our tour, friends. Please stay and gaze at the stars as long as you like. Come find me when you are done.” He bows again and leaves the room.

Leaving Aurelio and I alone.

There’s a beat, hungry and heavy, where we stare at each other. He seems too far away. “Aurelio.” I reach out a hand for him. “Tell me what I’m looking at. Where’s that constellation you were telling me about before? Perseus?”

Aurelio grabs my hand like it’s easy. Like he does it every day. He uses his free hand to point. “I always try to find his arm first. He’s raising his sword, as though in the midst of battle.” I follow his finger, craning my neck. “Do you see it?”

I squint, trying to shape the stars into a story. Into Perseus, young Aurelio’s favorite Greek hero. It still looks like a jumble to me. “Hm. Maybe?”

Aurelio makes a sound of exasperation. “It’s too hard to see everything this way.” He gazes around the room, as though looking for a better spot. He tugs on my hand. “Here, lie on your back.”

A laugh startles out of me. “Right here, Aurelio? Monfils is in the next room.”

Even in the dim, I can see him roll his eyes. “Just get on the floor, Amy.” I primly do as he orders, holding my skirt flat to my sides and crossing my legs at the ankles. The marble floor is cool on my back. Aurelio lies on the floor, too, his shoulder brushing against mine. He emanates a pleasant heat.

It’s the perfect angle to gaze at the stars, though I don’t say so to Aurelio.

“Do you see it now?” he asks, pointing again at Perseus. And this time, I do see it. I can almost imagine Perseus fighting against the sea monster, saving his future wife.

“Yes,” I say quietly. “I see him.”

“I’m sure you know the big and little dipper. Ursa Major and Minor as they are known to astronomers,” Aurelio continues, pointing in their direction. “And the belt of Orion. Those stars are bright and easy to see even with light pollution. Or Cassiopeia?”

I could listen to Aurelio talk about the stars for hours. “They’re beautiful,” I say honestly. “I never really looked before.”