If Valentino had been in love and wanted to cement that by marrying his partner before death do them apart today, he couldn’t.
This is not a problem most couples have, my parents included. My mom and dad put up with a lot of shit as Puerto Ricans, but no one stopped them from making it official, no one was disgusted by their love, no one killed their dream of starting a family. We should’ve had decades on decades on decades with each other, but who knows what that would’ve looked like. They could’ve gone all their lives watching me fight a war they never fought in, watching me never have what they have. In all my years of imagining what my parents’ terrifying final moments looked like, I like to think they were holding each other. My dad hadn’t stepped out of their meeting for one of his million bathroom breaks and my mom wasn’t trying to find a hot tea. They were so close that they could hear every I love you over the screams, over the explosions.
They were together, as the world has always allowed them to be.
“How about you?” Valentino asks.
“How about me what?”
“Have you thought a lot about marriage?”
“Honestly, no. I never thought I could even think about it. I’ve been too busy freaking out about trying to survive the day to even dream about the future. Like, I don’t know what Old Orion could look like or ever picture any Little Orions running around.”
“You’d be amazing with kids. You’re so incredibly thoughtful.”
“Do you want—” I stop myself, hating how Valentino will die before I get this right. “Did you want kids?”
Valentino nods. “I had names picked out too.”
“Please tell me you weren’t going to keep up the Valentine’s Day theme.”
“I absolutely would’ve! I wanted Rose for a girl and Cupid for a boy.”
“You would’ve been doing your son dirty. How about, um—what’s Cupid’s Greek mythology name? Eros!”
“I know we’re joking, but I don’t hate Rose and Eros as names.”
“I kind of don’t either. What did you actually pick out? They better be better now.”
“No pressure.” Valentino seems nervous sharing. “I really like Vale because it feels like the fraternal twin to my name. Alike, but not identical because they’re pronounced differently. It’s also unisex, which I love.”
I genuinely love the name too, but I’m too choked up to say anything. He really gave this a lot of thought, and it will never happen. There are some bucket-list boxes you can check off on your End Day and others that are impossible. Like Valentino getting married to the love of his life and having a child named Vale.
“I hate that you’re being robbed of all these moments.”
“What moments?”
“Everything you want. Falling in love, walking down the aisle at your wedding, holding your baby for the first time, all of that.”
“I hate it too. I like knowing that it doesn’t die with me. You’re the first person I’ve spoken to about Vale.”
“Not even Scarlett?”
“No. I’m like you that I’m not sure how realistic all that was. I certainly believed I’d have more time to make those dreams come true, but there were still so many barriers. I didn’t want Scarlett to get so excited only to not watch it all happen. Especially because she wants a big family of her own; she’s hoping for triplets. She would’ve offered to name a kid Vale for me, but that would’ve meant giving up on my Vale. I might have to take her up on that now.”