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23
Valentina
I’m not surprised that Dom remembers how to twirl me around a dance floor without making it look as though he’s concentrating on what he’s doing. The universe seems set on tormenting me, what with the Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” starting up after Luca and Lauren’s song. It’s a song that only makes me think of Dom. It could’ve been written as our very own love song.
Nostalgia sets in. This basement feels familiar—like the one in the Mancini house. They lived in a rare three level semi-detached and were one of the only people I knew who had a basement growing up. A basement we played Monopoly in on rainy days, or hide-and-seek when we were much younger, spin-the-bottle once we got older. My first kiss with Dominic happened in his basement, and three years later, I lost my virginity to him there. There was nothing especially romantic about the scene, but it felt romantic just the same.
My parents had inventory, so Mrs. Mancini had said that I could spend the night with them. They had a bed in the basement for family members or friends who spent the night.
Mrs. Mancini set me up downstairs and made sure I was comfortable. I lay in bed with a movie on the television to help me fall asleep. I hadn’t slept over at the Mancinis’ since I hit puberty, and I was positive there was a reason for that.
Around midnight, I heard the third stair creak, and I didn’t have to look to know who it was. Dom appeared in a pair of track shorts and a T-shirt. His hair was everywhere. I wondered if he’d fallen asleep before he came down to join me.
“Hey,” he said, walking across the basement toward my bed. “You doing okay?”
Back then, and still I suppose, I loved the way he acted like my own personal bodyguard, always making me feel as though I wasn’t alone. “Yeah, I just can’t sleep.”
He glanced at the TV, where My Best Friend’s Wedding was playing, then shrugged and sat on the edge of my bed. “Seriously? You haven’t watched this enough?”
I poked him with my toe. “It’s a cute movie.”
“It’s stupid. Who makes a pact to marry someone by a certain age?” He leaned his back against my headboard, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
It felt intimate, sitting that close to him on a bed. Being teenagers, it wasn’t a luxury we could often enjoy.
“Why do you think they didn’t marry earlier?” I ask.
“They’re friends. They both want careers. I don’t plan on marrying anyone until at least thirty.”
I drew back as though he’d offended me. That was the first I’d ever heard him say anything like that. “Why?”
“What’s the point of getting married if I can’t take care of my wife and kids? I want them to have everything, and for that to happen, I need to have a stable career.”
At that point, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I loved to dance, but I knew there was a slim chance I’d be able to make a career out of it. But Dom was nothing like me. Maybe it because he was the oldest, but he already knew he wanted to work with money and make money early on. He knew what he wanted to do and what school he wanted to get into.
“What if you lose the love of your life in the process?” I held my breath for his response.
“If she’s the love of my life, she’ll still be there at thirty.” He was cool and casual and certain. It scared me to think I’d miss out on the love of my life.
“Maybe there’s more than one love,” I offered.
He stared at me, the glow of the television making him look somehow older. “I think there’s only one true love for everyone.”
“Dom.” I elbowed him, but his eyes never left mine. “What if you never meet them?”
“What if you meet them too young?” he asked.
“Answer my question.”
His eyes dipped to my lips, then his tongue slid out of his mouth and he licked his lips. A tingle shot through my body. We’d kissed before—a few times—but we’d never gone further than some heavy petting. Still, I was cognizant of something stirring deep inside me, a desire and a want I wasn’t accustomed to.
“I don’t know what happens if you never meet them. My problem is that I worry I met mine too young.” Talking in code had always been Dominic Mancini’s MO. The man never laid his cards out, because he could never show vulnerability.
“And who is that?” I was afraid to hear the answer, but I needed to know.
He tilted his head, his eyes never leaving mine. “You know who.”
“Are you talking about Lulu?”
