Rafael didn’t follow. Gage’s voice kept replaying in his head.
I don’t plan to mark a transition I haven’t earned yet.
Yet.
It wasn’t safety. It was oxygen.
And it was the only reason Rafael hadn’t razed the room to ash.
“Come on, Bea,” Georgina urged, nudging her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed from champagne, eyes bright with the kind of mischief that never ended well. “I’ve heard you at home when you can’t help yourself. You’ve got pipes.”
“I’m not drunk enough for karaoke,” Bea protested.
“No one gets drunk in the UR, remember?” Isabel grabbed her hand, tugging her forward.
“Come on. One song. For me?” Naomi’s eyes were sparkling, her veil a little crooked.
Bea didn’t have the heart to say no. Not when it was Naomi’s hens.
She stood at the edge of the light. The microphone was cold in her hand. She stared at it, a little stunned, as if she couldn’t quite understand how she’d gotten there.
Naomi squeezed her hand, and Georgina shot her an encouraging nod, before they all moved back into their seats.
The opening notes trickled through the speakers. Her neck snapped up, emotion inside her already stirring. She recognized the song by Noelle, a famous UR singer-songwriter.
The screen brightened, words popping up line by line.
Bea’s chest tightened. Her throat felt like it was closing up. But there was no way out.
She took a breath. Then opened her mouth.
Her voice came out soft at first. The room didn’t notice. It was loud, chaotic, a swirl of color and champagne and laughter.
But then, slowly, the noise tapered off. Conversations halted. Heads turned.
The words poured out, heavy and raw.
You know the parts of me I’d never let unfold,
Taught me I was stronger than the fears I tried to hold.
Gave me ground to stand, and wings to claim the skies,
Now I see us drifting in the pauses and goodbyes.
Don’t say we’ll be fine, it only makes it worse,
I can feel the distance in the spaces between words.
So if this is the last time that I get to be yours,
Then let me keep a piece of us like we were before.
Her voice swelled with the chorus, stronger than she thought possible. It ached. She ached. And the room fell utterly silent.
Don’t go,
Not yet, not like this.
