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"Maybe," I agree reluctantly, though the uncertainty gnaws at me. Jasmine seems to sense this because she squeezes my hand.
"Hey," she says softly, "you should try to take your mind off of it for a while. Distractions can be helpful."
I consider her suggestion. I don't want to scare her off, but the only thing, or rather, person who is worth a distraction is sitting right in front of me. While our bond has been growing, I don't know what we are, or what we want.
To bare my heart on my sleeve might just push her away. All I want to do, in all honesty, is tell Jasmine that I want to go away for the weekend with her to someplace no one can find us.
But, I fear the heartache if she says no.
A reminder pops up on my phone’s calendar. There’s an event tonight. A place I could take Jasmine without raising too many flags. "There's an exclusive art gallery opening tonight. Would you like to join me?"
"Sure," she replies with a smile, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "That sounds like a great distraction and art is special to me."
"Your sister," I whisper, remembering how she told me about her sister who used to paint, before she died of cancer.
"Emily, yes," she gives me a sorrowful smile.
I realize that perhaps tonight could pose to be more than a distraction. The ghost has, in a chance of fate, led me to take Jasmine out for a night that has special meaning in her heart.
To know that it's not just another futile night out on town gives me great joy, because all I want is to see Jasmine happy.
"It'll be amazing" I say, returning her smile. It might only be temporary relief, but I'm grateful for the chance to escape my thoughts, even if just for one night.
And knowing it's something Jasmine really wants to do makes my heart swell with joy.
The art gallery buzzes with life as we enter, a sea of elegant people admiring the displayed masterpieces. The sound of clinking champagne glasses and murmured conversations fills the air. Jasmine looks stunning in a black dress, her hair flowing down her back like a silken waterfall.
A few men turn to give her a second glance and I feel proud knowing she's here with me.
As we make our way through the gallery, I notice Jasmine pause before a particular textured contemporary painting.
The piece is bold, neutral colors mingling together in a chaotic yet harmonious dance with streaks of brazen reds, blues and jarring greens, the texture adding depth and detail to the composition.
She seems captivated by it, her eyes widening in appreciation as she traces her fingers over the ridges and valleys of the artwork.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" she comments, her voice filled with admiration.
"Indeed," I reply, stealing a glance at her. "But not as beautiful as you."
She blushes, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "You're too much, Dario."
"Too... much?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
She swats at my shoulder. "Sometimes, the things you say belong more in a movie and less in real life."
"Maybe you haven't met any decent men," I exclaim.
She laughs. My eyes crinkle around the corners. I like it when she laughs. So much so, that all reason leaves my body and I want to do is see her happy like this, for however long I can make her.
"Jasmine, I want to buy this painting for you," I say impulsively without hesitation, feeling my desire to give her something special overpower any doubts.
Her eyes widen in surprise. "Oh Dario, don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just have everything you like. And besides, it’s way too expensive, I couldn’t accept such a preposterous gift.”
"Please," I insist, locking eyes with her. "Permettimi di farlo per te."– Allow me to do this for you.
"No, Dario!" she protests.
"I'm getting it," I insist, without hearing another word. I turn to the auctioneer to place my bid, ignoring her protests. Just then, I spot Frank across the room.
