Saint Valentine

8

A sick feeling sits in the pit of my stomach. I'm so nervous, I'm about to throw up. I hold Valentino's hand tightly as we walk down the stairs, making our way to lunch with his parents. I've worn a floral midi-dress with a split up the side. I wasn't sure how formally I had to dress. Valentino is always in suits, and his family dress just as neatly. I doubt they even own sweatpants.

"We won't stay long," he assures me. "If you want to leave earlier, we can."

"It's okay," I tell him. "It should be fine. It's just... nervewracking."

"They already know about you," he says. "I wouldn't have chosen you without their approval."

But meeting someone in person is different. And if they don't like me, they couldn't just object to our marriage, they could kick me out of this whole family.

"I just know they're going to ask hard questions."

"You don't have to answer them. They'll understand."

But that's rude. I just need to.. push through. It'll be fine. We might end up getting along. I need to think about it more positively.

"I'll be okay," I insist. "I'm excited to meet your family, anyway."

"They're overbearing," he warns. "But they mean well."

"That's okay. I can handle it." We come to a halt outside the formal dining room. I can already hear chatter inside. Two security guards stand by the door.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah," I sigh. I have to be. "Let's go."

Valentino nods at the guards. They open the doors, letting the noise spill out. The family turns to look at us, excited smiles on their faces. None of them is seated yet. They're spread around the room, speaking in smaller groups.

"Bianca!" Sofia makes a beeline towards me. She pulls me into a tight hug. I let go of Valentino's hand to return the gesture. "It's so lovely to meet you!"

"It's good to meet you, too," I respond.

"Don't be nervous, okay?" she pulls away. "I swear we're not as scary as we seem."

"Okay," I laugh awkwardly. Salvatore approaches me next. He's who I'm most nervous about meeting. He's intimidating — even more so than Valentino himself. I try to push that out of my head and think of him only as his father, rather than our previous padrone.

"Thank you for joining us today, Bianca," he greets me with a handshake. "It's an honour to have you in our home."

"Thank you," I smile. "It's nice to meet you."

"Finally!" Catarina appears before me, a look of desperation on her face. "You have no idea how long we've been waiting for Valentino to find someone. And we really need more girls in this house."

"Well, I'm happy to help," I say.

"Hi Bianca," Francisco joins the conversation, planting a kiss on my cheek. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too," I smile. Thank god there are not more people in this family. I've run out of ways to greet people. I glance over at Valentino, but he's in conversation with his father.

"Shall we sit?" Francisco suggests. He's a spitting image of his brother — just a few years younger. 29, I think he is. He should be expected to get married soon, too. I'm surprised he's not already.

We all take our seats at the table. Valentino holds a chair out for me. I take it happily, glad he's telling me where I should be sitting so I don't make a fool of myself. I expect him to sit at the head of the table, but he doesn't. His mother does. Instead, he sits opposite me, between his brother and father. Meanwhile, I sit beside his sister. A group of waiters steps into the room, walking over to fill our glasses with water and wine.