Page 66 of Rome: The Ballerina

Your feet must be tired. I suppressed.

“Rome Childers,” I said instead.

“Saint De Bacco.”

“Welcome to the neighborhood.”

A cute, quick nod displayed her appreciation. I couldn’t help but wonder what she was suppressing. Avoiding. Hiding. Thinking. The happenings of her head were heavy on my heart.

I pressed forward, making my way back out of the door. Handing Rome the basket wasn’t an option. Her hands were already full with things that I would’ve removed myself hadn’t she set them down as I stormed into her home.

“Well, they let us know you have plans, and obviously my son has stirred up some trouble, so we’re going to let you go. If you need anything, we’re the home right of yours. Don’t hesitate to stop by.”

“I’ll bear in mind,” she told my mother as she waltzed through the foyer and out onto the porch. “Thank you so kindly.”

I stood off to the side, observing even the smallest of her movements. My hands were in front of me, joined and concealing the result of my rushing blood. Rome was well-spoken. Well dressed. Well traveled. Well cared for. Well. In every sense of the word.

Someone loved her and that love didn’t just start. It was deep, rooted, and began long before she exited her mother’swomb. Someone cherished her presence. And, somehow, I understood why. The reasons were piling as I watched her smile widened.

She was introverted. The curves of her lips were forged. However, she was kindhearted and found it hard to deny access to her. I looked out into the yard where security waited.

That’s why they’re here. To deny. Deny. Deny.

My mother was the first to step down from the porch. My father followed, still taking in the property. Nadia extended her hand and led me down with her. I didn’t protest. I followed.

When we were out of earshot, Nadia leaned in closer. Our bodies collided softly. She was brimming with words. I sensed them. It wasn’t long before she couldn’t hold onto them and they came tumbling out.

“Soooo– are you going to pretend you’re not attracted to her orrrr–”

“I’m engaged, Nadia.”

“Soooo– are you going to pretend you’re not attracted to her orrrr–” she repeated, ignoring what I’d just said to her.

I pushed out a fresh stream of air. The urge to turn back was becoming unbearable. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply before obeying my body. When my eyes found her again, her eyes told me they’d never left me.

Like a moth to a flame, I drew closer to her, allowing my grip on Nadia’s hand to loosen until it no longer existed. On the porch, face to face, I pulled my pants up on my waist.

Where have you been?The words were at the tip of my tongue. They had no grounds here, so I pushed them down my throat, saving them for another day.

The desire to be near brought me slightly closer. The bottom of her dress toyed with my jeans. With my head. With my sanity.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” I inquired, “Have we met before?”

She shook her head, “No, Saint. We haven’t met before. Not in this lifetime.”

I nodded, trying to get to the bottom of things.Of feelings.

“It’s just that– you feel familiar. This feels familiar. Are you sure I don’t know you?”

“Saint–” she breathed out, remaining poised and pretty.

She smelled like strawberries and cream and vanilla and honey and a combination of everything good. My name rolling off her tongue was transcending. I searched for the surface beneath my feet. It was still there, yet I was on one of the fluffy clouds she’d designed herself.

“You don’t know me, yet, but your heart does. It’s no stranger to me.”

I balanced my weight, spreading my feet apart. I was all ears. All eyes. All mind. All in.

“Elaborate.Please.”

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