Always Been You

*Sleeping with my best friend was something that shouldn’t have happened. We made a promise to each other when we were young, but it was long forgotten, at least by him but not by me. I didn’t forget that he was my prince charming. He dated girls, which I didn’t mind because I was still underage. We slept in the same bed until this date, but we have never crossed the line. The problem started when his fiancée failed to appear for their wedding, and I had to play the role of his bride for the day just to save his face. That was the date when everything changed. We had the steamiest night, and he told me it shouldn’t have happened because he was dating my best friend, Candice. That struck me dead in the gut. I should have known that our promises were long forgotten. He took my innocence and told me it shouldn’t have happened. That hurts, but nothing hurts more than learning you’re pregnant with your best friend’s child and you can’t tell him because he is in love with your friend.

"Hi! My name is Lola." He grinned.

"My name is Dante."

"May I join you in a game?"

"How old are you?" I gave him a puppy-dog expression.

"You’re so adorable when you do that," he observed.

"I am nine years old."

"Well. I’m a sixteen-year-old; do you wish to play with your older brother?" I gave a nod.

Just like that, I started playing with a 16-year-old. I was his little sister, and he was my big brother. We grew up to be best friends. Everything was shared. We continue to share a bed to this day.*

~Lola~

My family and I have never been one to stay in one place due to my parents’ line of work. We move around so much. I have been to so many countries and so many states. But when we moved to New York at the age of nine, I was determined to stay and make New York my home. Every girl wants her prince charming, and I met one the day my family and I landed in New York. He was older, but I didn’t care. He looked like he was 18 or 20. He was my Prince Charming. I am the only girl in my family and Daddy’s princess. I have twin brothers who are almost the same age as the prince charming I saw earlier today. While everyone was preparing their rooms, I sneaked out to go and steal a glance at the drop-dead gorgeous boy outside. He was quite a spaceman. He looked bored playing alone, so I approached him. I stood while watching him, like a frozen ice cube about to be melted away by the rays of the sun.

"Hi! ’ I said, and he turned and smiled at me. He had a beautiful smile. I often hear my brothers talk about girls. I had no idea a man could be this gorgeous. I smiled back at him.

"Hi! My name is Lola." He grinned.

"My name is Dante."

"May I join you in a game?"

"How old are you?" I gave him a puppy-dog expression.

"You’re so adorable when you do that," he observed.

"I am nine years old."

"Well. I’m sixteen years old; do you wish to play with your older brother?" I gave a nod. We played together for hours, and I didn’t mind as no one even noticed that I wasn’t helping with the boxes. Dante then told me he was hungry and invited me to have lunch with him. His house was huge, like a castle. They had so many workers going up and down preparing a meal for him, as though they knew the exact time Dante would eat his lunch. He took me to the kitchen sink to wash my hands, and so did he. We headed to the dining table, where I met a man and a woman seated at the table. The woman smiled at me, as did the man. They seemed to be nice people.

"Mom, Dad, I’ve got a little sister," Dante told his parents, and they smiled. His mother rose from her chair to give me a hug and then kissed my brows.

"Welcome, child. Have a seat." Dante drew a chair for me to sit in, just like a prince should for his princess. I sat down, and he started putting food on my plate. I looked at him as he continued to fill up my plate.

"That’s too much, Dante."

"You need to eat, Bunny, so that you can be a big Bunny."

Bunny? Why does the sound of it cause a tingling excitement in me? Well, since it’s my Prince Charming calling me, I wouldn’t mind. Dante’s family was very kind, and they were welcoming.

Six months later, my family decided to relocate again, but I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to be around Dante. I begged my mother to allow me to stay in New York, with the excuse that changing environments were starting to affect my studies. My parents knew I was right, so they told me they would look for a housekeeper for me. I was so happy because I got to see my Prince Charming every day. My family left the country for another country while I remained in New York, close to the one who had stolen my heart without even trying. Dante’s mother turned out to be my mother and his father my father. After my parents left, Dante and I started sleeping together. We would share a bed, but nothing ever happened. He was like a brother to me, and I was like a sister to him, so yeah, and I was only 9 years old. He would check on me every morning and make sure I ate. Things changed, and I became his responsibility rather than what I wanted him to see. What would a man see in a 9-year-old? I became very close to his mother, and we would go shopping together and do things a mother and daughter would do. When I turned 13, Dante was the CEO of the Monroe Group. He drove expensive cars and had women all over him. But he never settled for any of them. That didn’t bother me much. I mean, he promised to be my prince. But that was a promise he made to a 9-year-old. Dante would pick me up from school every day, and I would go to his office and watch him work. He would help me with my schoolwork. He was everything a brother should be. When it was exam time, he would act like a strict teacher and lock me up to finish my work if I got one answer wrong. I would be punished. He was my knight in shining armor. He was also my crush. After all those years, I still have butterflies when I see him. Dante would always kiss me goodnight every day. He had never passed a day without doing it. He was now more like a parent than the friend I met when I was nine.

When I turned 14, I was a bit mature—not that mature, but at least I could see him in every magazine. The youngest billionaire in New York City, I was proud of him as much as he was proud of me. He was an inspiration, and I forgot to mention that Dante is a perfectionist. Things changed a little when I was 14, not on his end but on mine. In fact, I used to be envious when I read about him and his latest fling in magazines or newspapers; after all, he was my prince charming. Though he and I had never talked about such things before, we talked about everything but his love life. He said I was too young to understand. But Dante was still my Prince Charming. I knew that with time we would get to talk about the things that we couldn’t talk about when I was older.