Page 73 of Bound and Blitzed

As I change back into my clothes, Mamá takes the gown from my hand and walks toward the checkout.

“Oh! Mami, I can buy my own dress,” I say, reaching for the gown.

She holds it out of my reach. “Please, Vale, let me get this for you. You look stunning in it. So confident and happy. And there will be so many wonderful gentlemen at the gala.”

“Mamá,” I hiss. “I’m married.”

“Oh, I know.” She waves a hand dismissively, as if flicking away the idea of my marriage.

I take the dress out of her hands. “Please, let me,” I say, my voice hard.

“Vale, let her have this,” Carla murmurs.

Relenting, I roll my eyes and allow my mother to take the dress back and step to the cashier.

“Gracias, Mami,” I murmur.

Mamá nods.

After the purchase of the gown, the three of us head uptown for lunch. We order martinis and Mamá sighs.

“I wasn’t trying to insult you, Valentina,” she says.

I tilt my head, studying her. “He’s my husband.”

“Do you love him?” Mamá asks.

I hesitate for the slightest second and note the flicker, theknowing, that expands in Mamá’s eyes. “Yes,” I say resolutely. I didn’t hesitate because I don’t know my own mind; I hesitated because Avery’s and my marriage is hardly conventional.

But so what? It’s still ours.

Then why can’t I tell my parents? Why am I still seeking their approval?

“I hope so,” Mamá replies. “Because marriage is hard, Valentina. And being married to a professional athlete can be a very lonely life.”

Carla’s eyes widen at that but instead of cutting in, my sister takes a gulp of her martini.

Mamá changes the subject and steers our conversation to safter topics—skiing in the Swiss Alps, a new theatrical performance Mamá wants to see in London, and Carla’s involvement with tomorrow night’s gala.

I participate in the conversation when it’s required but for the most part, I’m quiet. Lost in my thoughts.

Haven’t I experienced, firsthand, how hard and lonely marriage to an athlete can be? But Avery and I moved past that. We’re good now—thriving.

Still, Mamá’s words echo in my mind.

By the time we arrive in front of my hotel room door, I’m exhausted. Mentally drained.

“Thank you for the dress,” I say, accepting it from Mamá’s outstretched hand.

“Wear it in good health,” she says, smiling. She kisses Carla’s and my cheeks. “See you girls for dinner.”

“I have a meeting with some of my teammates about the gala. Do you need anything, Vale?” Carla asks.

“No, I’m good.” I wave her away. “I’ll see you for dinner.”

I watch as my mother and sister walk down the hallway. Then, I push into my hotel room, hang up my new gown, shed my clothing, and wrap myself in a comfy robe.

I collapse in an armchair and stare out the window, noting the bustling city street below.

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