DANTE
Beautiful.
Romi is the shining star here. Now and always.
Attendees chatter amongst themselves, in awe of the creative tribute to Lorraine.
Romi's agent looks like she’s sprouted a few more gray hairs over the ordeal of getting this all together, but other than that, she's shaking hands and thanking people on Romi’s behalf.
My woman stands beside her favorite piece, wearing a long, red silk dress instead of her usual tee with a slogan. However, the wordsI’ll always rememberhave been printed down the skirt of her dress.
She stands proudly beside the star piece of the show, the painting of Lorraine writing in the little alcove of the studio. All of her books have already sold out, the shelves are completely empty, and a staff member is taking orders for the next print run.
Romi has masterfully incorporated her friend into every piece, guiding the audience to the bookshelf installation, imploring their support and purchase for a cause.
Romi Lutton glows with self-confidence once again, and I couldn’t be prouder.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” her mother says, coming to stand beside me as we watch Sienna quickly snap photos of Romi from alongside the other photographers. Romi chastises her out of embarrassment, but then they laugh.
Elanee and Dmitri are around here somewhere, having suddenly disappeared a few moments ago. By the way they were looking at one another, I’m assuming they went to fuck in some hidden corner.
“The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” I admit to her mother. I’m comfortable in the shadows, watching over her from a distance. Waiting until my woman is ready to come to my side. Something that’s been difficult but necessary for me to learn. Especially now that her schedule will be picking up once again. I dread the thought of the international travel and distance that will come between us.
She calls me needy; I consider myself diligent.
I made her swear to call me every hour on the hour. She said she’ll FaceTime once a day, if I’m lucky. We still haven’t come to an agreement.
“I know we haven’t been able to speak much, what with getting all of this together, but I wanted to say thank you,” her mother says, and it surprises me. It’s not often someone thanks me. “She really struggled for a while there. I felt awful being unable to do anything for her, but the more I tried, the more she pushed me away. So, whatever you did, I’ll always be grateful. She seems to be a bit more grounded, and I hope you stick around.”
I turn my attention back to Romi, who’s now looking in our direction. “I have no intention of leaving her side.” And that’s the absolute truth. Even when her daughter no longer wants me, I’lltear down any wall she tries to build between us and be there on my knees, worshipping her.
Her mother is smiling as she gently grabs my hand and squeezes. My mouth goes dry at the soft and unfamiliar gesture. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a son. Make sure you take good care of her.”
Her gaze is gentle, her smile warm—all of these things foreign and never pointed in my direction. She certainly will never see me as the man I truly am, but somehow, someway, she’s found the small amount of good in me and entrusts me to look after her daughter.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I will,” I promise. It’s not a hard promise to make, but I’ve never considered what it might be like to have a mother, even if by extension. I don’t really remember my mother, and I never dwell on the loss for too long. But suddenly, I want Romi’s mother’s approval. I want to be so ingrained in Romi’s life that if she were to ever think of leaving me, she’ll still have reason to stay.
“Perhaps we should have dinner sometime. I’ll cook a delicious pasta dish for you and Barry,” I suggest.
“And he cooks as well,” her mother says with a smile. “We’d like that.”
“Like what?” Romi asks as she stops next to me and grabs my hand. I bring it to my lips and kiss her knuckles.
“Dante suggested we should come over for dinner sometime, and he’ll cook. I can only imagine how busy his schedule is as a doctor.”
I smirk as Romi’s eye twitches, but she produces a benevolent smile to mask it. “How generous of him, but we don’t even have a dining table.”
“Don’t worry,Cattivella. I’ll make it work.” I press a kiss to her forehead, and I can tell she’s doing everything in her powernot to say something scathing. It only makes me want to drag her out of here and tear her clothes off.
Romi’s agent walks over and gives me a sympathetic expression. “Sorry, I need to steal her for a moment for an interview.”
I’m agreeable, even though I want to do anything but let her go.
As she walks away, I think about all the things she’s done for me. Despite Lorenzo's and my differences, ever since that day she forced us into talking about our "feelings," our dynamic has shifted. I still piss him off, and he berates me for how I work, but we talk at least once a week. Most of the time, it’s about Luca and work, but it means that he’s finally accepted this path I’ve chosen.
We seem to share one thing in common: he’s still trying to convince Lily to marry him, even though it's without question that they will, and I know even asking Romi the question will elicit her attempting to gouge my eyeballs out. I smirk at the thought, and I can’t wait. For now, I enjoy buying her lavish gifts and being told off for trying to be a Casanova, then receiving hate sex afterward. It’s a cycle I’ll happily continue.
And I'm sure the sequence will start once again later tonight, as I have another gift for her. Until then, I will not so patiently wait for my beautifulCattivella.
