The reception is still going strong when we slip through the side door, hand in hand. The music pulses from the dance floor. Laughter echoes through the room, and no one seems to notice us at first.
Elijah’s parents stand near the bar, dressed to impress and fully immersed in a conversation with someone equally as polished. His mother’s gaze cuts our way, and her face freezes more than usual from the Botox. His father’s brow dips before he shifts his gaze back to his wife. Instinctively, I try to pull my hand back, but Elijah squeezes it tighter, steering us straight toward the storm.
“I can seriously go wait in the van,” I murmur under my breath. “This is Kaci’s wedding, and I don’t want to start drama. Not tonight.”
“Nonsense,” Elijah rasps. “I’m so over my parents, and I’m not afraid of them. If anything, it’s time I start standing up to them.”
“Elijah,” his mother’s voice is edged with concern, “there you are. We were looking for you. I want to introduce you to Lily Wagner’s daughter.”
“I know what you did,” Elijah cuts her off.
His father wastes no time. “Who did what?”
“I know about the calls you made to Koren last year, and how you tried to keep us apart. And I know you’ve spent the last year trying to twist everything I feel for her into something small and temporary.”
His mother glances at me, then back at him with that polished smile. “Sweetheart, we only ever wanted—”
“Control.” He cuts her off again. “You wanted to confuse me just enough that I didn’t fight for her.”
A heavy hush falls nearby. Someone at a nearby table turns toward us. Elijah lowers his voice, leaning in. “Look, I’m not going to create a scene and ruin the wedding. It’s honestly not even worth my breath, but I’m letting you know that you lost.” His fingers curl even tighter around mine, sending my heart soaring. Then, firmly, he adds, “Even though you did everything you could to confuse me, it didn’t work. I love Koren. I always have and always will.”
The words hit my heart like something sacred. His gaze slides to me. Something unspoken passes between us. It’s not forgiveness as I no longer feel like we need that. It’s more like a settling into our union. Elijah doesn’t give his parents a chance to say anything more as he tugs on my hand and says, “Let’s dance.”
It’s my turn to tighten my grip on his hand as we turn away. The hum of everyone’s side conversations fades beneath the music as the next song begins. I hesitate at the edge of the dance floor, my fingers still laced with his. “I remember this song.”
He smiles, cocking his head toward the speakers as the opening chords drift through the room. “It’s the one you murdered at Axl’s karaoke birthday night, remember?”
A laugh from deep in my belly escapes. I can’t help but get defensive. “You meanyoumurdered it. I carried us all the way through with my dance moves.”
“Oh, please. Don’t you remember the applause I got? I was clearly the crowd favorite.”
“Because you took your shirt off in a room full of women.” I roll my eyes but allow him to guide me onto the dance floor. Butterflies flutter to life in my gut. The exact ones I haven’t felt in a year. As soon as the sensation returns, I curl my toes, welcoming them. The glow of the lights creates little patterns on the floor that help us to find our place. With his hand resting warm on my lower back, I wrap my arms around his neck like they never left. We move effortlessly together from memory and instinct.
“So …” he murmurs, eyes never leaving mine, “can you say you missed me now?”
“Maybe a little.”
He spins me gently and, as if we are thinking the same thing, we eye my strap. “Your dress is holding up nicely,” he says after it doesn’t move.
“For now.”
The song shifts into the chorus, and I unapologetically step on his toe. “Still a terrible dancer,” he observes out loud.
“Sacrifices must be made for art.” I laugh easily this time.
We dance in silence for the entire song, but as the final notes linger in the air, Elijah lowers his head, his forehead brushing mine. “May I?”
“Why do you ask now?” I crack a wide smile. “You didn’t the last two times you kissed me.”
He smiles and presses his lips into mine—soft, slow, and full of all the things we haven’t said in a year. Around us, the room keeps spinning. Everyone can see us, including his parents, but for this moment, the dance floor belongs only to us.
I break our kiss, and rest my head against his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat underneath his button-up. Man, even this I missed.
I don’t want the song to end.
I don’t wantthisto end.
Maybe it’s some sort of PTSD from losing him last year, but I hold onto him so tightly. I tilt my head up and study his jaw, strong and relaxed. A satisfied smile tugs at his lips, as if he’s perfectly content just to hold me here.
