A DATE #2
Here, I’m just another person. No one knows me. Only one man wants to marry me. There’s no one lurking, waiting for me to be distracted so they can put me into a van and take me again, or a man—who should be taking care of me and loving me—reaching for my bottom at every chance he gets.
I’m safe.
“Ma!”
The little voice startles me, as does the gentle tug on my shirt. I look down and find a boy staring up at me, his wide eyes mirroring my own surprise.
“I-I’m not your mum.”
His cheeks flush, his lips quiver, and he presses his small hands over his face.
Oh no. No, no, no.
I kneel in front of him and gently grasp his shoulders.
“It’s okay. Are you lost?”
The boy sobs and nods. I glance in the direction where Dante should be, but he’s nowhere in sight. I thought he could help—
No. I can help him. I can do this!
“I’ll help you find her. Does she have red hair like me?”
He nods again.
I crouch to grab the bottles and hold them out in front of us. “Would you hold one for me?”
He sniffs; his little brown eyes full of fear as they meet mine. His tear-streaked face and tousled hair make my chest tighten. Slowly, he pulls his hands away from his face and takes one of the bottles with his tiny hand.
As I stand, holding the other bottle, I ask, “What’s your name?”
“Finn,” he replies softly.
“That’s a beautiful name.”
A small smile spreads across his face, his round cheeks puffing up. He’s adorable.
I scan the crowd for someone with red hair like mine. It doesn’t take long to spot her. Finn likely couldn’t see her—at his height, all he’d be able to see are legs.
I lead the little boy until I reach his mother. She’s arguing with a vendor, her voice rising above the surrounding noise.
“I understand you don’t want to work, but it’s my son’s birthday, and I need—”
“Ma!” Finn yells
The woman whirls around, her sharp gaze landing on me. “What are you doing with my son?” she snaps, narrowing her eyes.
You can do this. Stay calm. You’re just helping.
“He saw me at the vending machine and thought I was you,” I explain, steadying my voice. I won’t stutter—I didn’t do anything wrong. “He thought he was lost.”
“Well, you found me. Now, go.” She dismisses me with a wave and turns back to her argument.
Finn holds out the water bottle to me with a shy smile. I take it from his small hand, returning his smile even though I’m about to freak out.
“Thank you,” he says with a lisp and runs to join his mother.
When I turn around, Dante is standing a few feet away from me. As I approach, I steel myself, half expecting him to snatch the bottle from me or comment on the scene… But he doesn’t. He simply smiles, standing a respectful distance from me.
I don’t understand this man.
Without a word about what just happened—something I’m immensely grateful for—he gestures for me to follow him to one of the bowling lanes. He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over the seat before I speak.
“Have you played before?” I ask, watching how he rolls up his sleeves.
I envy the way he moves, so sure of himself, as if he owns the whole place. And I’m so…
Ugh.
“A couple of times,” he replies casually, picking up a ball. It slips from his hand and drops back onto the rack with a thud. “Do you want to go first?”
“I’m fine.”
He sighs, retrieves the ball again, and walks confidently to the lane. With a sharp motion, he throws it. Seconds later, the ball smashes into all the pins, making them fall.
Of course, he had to be perfect at this too.
Resigned, I grab one of the heavier balls and hold it tightly against my chest.
“I think it would be better if—”
“I can do it.”
He raises both hands, an amused smirk playing on his lips.
I slot my fingers into the holes of the ball, gripping it tightly with both hands. Taking a deep breath, I prepare to throw it. When I release, the ball veers off course, knocks against the side of the lane.
A frustrated growl escapes me as I cover my face with my hands. Dante stifles a laugh.
“That’s normal, amore . Try the lighter ones,” he says with a soft chuckle.
Reluctantly, I return to his side. He picks up another ball and demonstrates his grip.
“Just two fingers. You don’t need to use the thumb like that.”
“But then what do I do with it?”
“You hold it here,” he explains, pressing his palm firmly on the ball. “Watch how I throw it.”
He strides to the lane, his movements confident. Stretching his arm back, he cradles the ball between his hand and forearm before launching it forward.
Again, he knocks them all down.
“See?” he asks, glancing at me over his shoulder.
I nod.
Reaching for a lighter ball, I try to focus, but Dante steps closer, and my stomach twists.
“May I?”
I nod again, not understanding what he’s asking permission for, but then he takes my hands, and a shiver runs down my spine.
“Take your time,” he says in a gentle tone. “Besides, this isn’t about winning—”
I glance at him. “Is there a score?”
His lips curve into a small smile. “Yes.”
“Do we win anything?”
“No.”
“Oh, okay.”
His thumb grazes the back of my hand, and he tightens his grip slightly before guiding my fingers. Gently, he removes my thumb from the hole, pressing my palm against the surface of the ball.
“Like this.” His voice is so low I get chills. Positioning himself behind me, he pulls my arm back, steadying the ball in my grip. “You’ll feel like it’s going to fall,” he explains, his breath warm against my ear, “so you have to move your arm quickly.”
“And if it falls to the side again?”
“Then you try again.”
He releases me, and an ache settles in my chest as I immediately miss his touch.
This. Is. Not. Right.
Or maybe it is. After all, I’ll be spending the rest of my life with him.
He nods, encouraging me. I take a deep breath, step into position, and throw. The ball lands in the middle of the lane and follows its course almost perfectly, but not all the pins fall.
I pout. I’m useless. I’m not even good for this kind of—
“Perfect!”
I turn to him, frowning.
“But not all of them fell.”
“They don’t need to, not all of them at least.” His gaze shifts behind me. “It’s your turn again.”
I blink several times. He’s not mad or laughing at me, and I… feel good.
I turn around, a little stunned, and repeat my previous moves. This time, only one pin remains standing.