And that had been it.
He was still a jerk. He still put his foot in his mouth, and sometimes he forgot who he was talking to and treated her like an employee.
And sometimes she still overreacted, or misjudged something he said and then slammed a door in his face.
But after two painful break ups, they'd learned their lesson. The foot never stayed in his mouth long, and she never locked the door. They always talked it out with each other. They always came back to each other.
And she was beginning to think they always would.
Alright, Ari. You slayed a bunch of dragons for me. Now it's my turn.
“Okay,” she said, pulling away from him and shaking the tension out of her shoulders. “I'm ready.”
Ari made a face at her.
“You look like you're about to faint.”
“Really?”
“Or shit yourself.”
“Thanks, cheers for that,” she grumbled, then she snatched the martini back and polished it off.
“We don't have to do this,” he reminded. “Just because he called, doesn't mean we have to answer. I haven't seen him in eight months, I'm fine with not seeing him for eight more. Or eight more years. Or eighty.”
Valentine held up her hands.
“No. Because then there will always be that doubt in our mind, always be that 'what if'? If I'm going to cut somebody out of my life, I'm not giving them the chance to say 'she didn't even try', we're not going to give him that kind of satisfation.”
“Okay,” Ari nodded, and he gripped her hand tightly in his before placing them both over his heart. “So long as you know this isn't about him, or his approval. This is about us. This is about you and me, because nobody else matters.”
Valentine melted inside.
“Nobody else,” she agreed.
“Good girl. Just remember, nobody loves you like I do, Saint Valentine.”
“And nobody loves you like I do, Aaron Sharapov.”
He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.
“Alright then. Let's go meet my father.”
He turned away, but kept ahold of her hand, and she followed in his wake. She knew his father was only a few feet away. Knew he most likely wouldn't approve of her, and knew this dinner was most likely a mistake, and she even knew it was most likely the first of many to come.
Mr. Sharapov only had one son, and no matter what he said, he wanted to be a part of Ari's life. Ari had made it clear that Valentine was a part of that life. It was going to be a battle getting Mr. Sharapov to understand that, and to accept it. But Valentine was ready. After eight months at Ari's side, she was ready to go to war for him.
Because I believe in him, and I believe in us, and ultimately, that's all that matters.