~ that's just life, baby ~
where valentina and pete figure out how to raise their child as a functioning person in society
'pete, where did she go?'
'i thought you had her?'
'no, i thought you had her...
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"Holy shit, sweetheart! That's amazing!" the SNL star exclaims, excited for his spouse. But then it dawned on him, the problem that came with these great news. "These companies.... they're not based in New York, are they?"
Misty-eyed, Valentina's expression answered his question and Pete is shocked. Never in a million years would he ever thought about leaving New York. This is where he was born, where he was raised, where his family is, where his daughter was born, and so much more.
"They are amazing positions not only in other states, but also London and Paris and Sydney," she adds.
Pete removes his hand from hers and balls them up, focusing his energy somewhere else. It stung him to do that to Val.
But there's no way in hell that he's going to relocate out of the country.
"I can keep dancing and we'll be taken care of," Val explains, "I think it'll be good for us."
"No," Pete angrily replies.
The ballerina is shocked, "No?"
"We're not going to do doing this--- we're not gonna discuss now and least of all here," Pete takes deep breaths and keeps his temper, "I haven't eaten all day and that's what we are going to do. Enjoy a nice meal as husband and wife."
Valentina's lips quiver as she tried to remain unfazed by the way this all played out. She struggles to do so, annoyed at herself for doing this in public, and wipes the tears that fell down her face. Pete refuses look at her, guilty that he made her cry, a part of him wanting to reach out and comfort her.
Then the familiar sound of clicking and shuttering caught the comedian's attention. He's able to spot where the motherfucker is camped out, invading their privacy. He then searched for someone to help them when he saw a group of them chattering and looking at their direction. Pete swears under his breath, angry at the waiters for wanting to gain publicity.
This is going to be all over Page Six tomorrow, he thought.
He pulls out a hat and sunglasses and tells his wife to put them on. Despite Pete being angry, he always thought of his wife first, thinking that at least it would give her some privacy in a vulnerable time like this.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
"Please Pete," Valentina begs, "Talk to me. You haven't said a word."
After noticing paparazzi had found them at the restaurant, Pete and Val had their meals boxed up as quickly as they can and ditched that place. They hadn't said a word in fear that someone will tip off some tabloid, causing the car ride home to be one filled with silence and agony.
"What do you want me to say, Valentina?" Pete says, annoyed. He chucks his keys on the kitchen counter out of frustration.
"I want you to tell me how you feel," the ballerina pleads, "You can't just say no and then not explain yourself. We're not going back to the way we used to be."
