On paper, Pete and Valentina are perfect for each other. Their friends used 'soulmates' when describing them and at one point they were. As they reflect on the last five years of their relationship, they try to understand the complexity of their lov...
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Pete's slumber was interrupted abruptly.
His pulse was racing, sweat beaded on his forehead, his breathing increased rapidly. His hand reached out to the right side of his bed only to find it cold and empty. His panic lessened once he heard soft humming coming from the other room. The shadow of her moving figure peeked through the gap between the door and floor.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He felt exhausted and rightfully so; for the past several months, the comedian was only able to get a little sleep, waking up suddenly to escape the nightmares he endured.
Reaching over to his night stand, he picked up the joint he rolled the night before and lit it. His perturbation dissipated with each hit he took. He didn't want to get out of bed, but he had to go check up on what she was doing.
Stop it, he thought, Stop thinking this way.
Once he got dressed, he moseyed on over to the kitchen where he watched her cook breakfast for the two of them. The dancer wore an oversized shirt, evident that she rummaged through Pete's closet.
"Morning my love, come and eat before it gets cold," she placed two plates on the kitchen table.
He slumped down in the chair and grabbed the metal utensil next to the dish. He poked his food around while she poured coffee into a mug for him.
He stared at her, analyzed her every move. A part of him knew that something was wrong while the other half assured that everything was fine.
"Okay, don't get upset," she started.
There it is, she's leaving.
"I have to make a quick stop to the studio today."
No, that's normal. She's almost always at there.
"I know I've been there a lot recently."
That's because she's spending time with someone else. She's sneaking around!
"But the season is about to start and I have final adjustments for my costume."
No, she wouldn't do that. You have to trust her, and you do... do I? I can't be here--- I need to leave.
"Val..."
"But afterwards, we can go shopping in the district or go to the park. Grab an early dinner at that restaurant I told you about last week. The one that Mateo and Vanessa loved?"
"Valentina," Pete said, raising his voice.
There was a hint of sharpness and agitation in his tone which caused the girl to immediately cease her rambling. She set down her fork and looked down, mimicking the behavior of a child who had been scolded; in the years they've been together, never once has he used her full name. She was always 'Val' or some term of endearment.
