He swiftly crosses the floor to join me, taking hold of my hands and pulling them out to either side while he stares in wonder at my sparkly dress. What little there is of it.
“You look…”
“Hot.”
His laughter fills up the stadium. “Scorching,” he agrees and tugs me into his arms. “You know, I might have told you once that I’m not the world’s greatest communicator…”
“Hm.” I put a finger up to my cheek, playacting coy. “Would that be the time you threatened to kill me?”
He ducks his head, then shakes it from side to side. “Honestly. You make it sound so much worse than it was.”
Now my laugh is the one filling the room. “What else did you tell me,” I say, frowning as though it’s a struggle to drag the memory from the recesses of my mind into the light. “Something about how the men in your family are dreadful stalkers…”
“And will go to any lengths to prove their devotion to the ones they love.”
I stare at him. Barely able to believe any of this is happening. “Call this a grand gesture, eh?”
He presses his lips together and opens his eyes wide. “Maybe not,” he finally says. “But what about this?”
He holds up his arm and the lights dim, then he snaps his fingers and live music blasts from the stage. The backing band I hadn’t even noticed up to now, get straight into the introduction to “Yours to Love.”
For a moment, I close my eyes, content to listen to the music. Then Micah positions my hands to rest against his waist and shoulders and leads me into a slow waltz.
So much emotion banks up in my throat that my eyes water. I try to push it back but it’s relentless, sweeping over me in larger and larger waves.
“Okay,” I say when it’s speak or burst into sobs. “I admit. This is a lovely gesture.”
“If you like this, you should see the engagement ring I’ve got in my pocket.”
A giggle spurts out of me, a sound of pure joy. “Is that a ring? I thought you were just happy to see me.”
His lips move down to rest against my ear as he whispers in a tone so low it sends tingles shooting all the way down my spine. “That, too. But I’ll keep him tucked away until later.”
Then we stop talking as the music pounds out so loud we’d have to shout to be heard over it. The harmonies echo around the hall, vibrate up through the floor, assault my ears and hair and skin until it feels like the music isn’t just outside me but is a part of me, rocking down to my very soul.
We dance together, learning each other’s moves and rhythms as the music changes tempo, picking up the pace for one song before slowing into a lament for another.
It’s incredible. Forget The Wiggles. This is now officially my favourite concert ever. Most of that due to the music… okay. Only a part of that because of the music. Most of it because of the man leading me around the dancefloor.
When a quieter song comes on, Micah slows his steps, staring at me seriously as he cradles my face between his hands.
“I’m sorry.” he whispers, swaying to the music as it echoes across the empty stands. “Sorry for hurting you. Sorry for betraying your trust. I didn’t think of what harm it might cause you when I…”
He breaks off for a second, struggling to swallow. I lean into him, willing him to get past whatever block this is. Finish telling me what he needs to for us to be okay.
“I didn’t think of what it would do to you when I sent that image and the moment I realised I couldn’t take it back, I should have talked to you. Admitted what I’d done before you found out in such a horrible, horrible way. I can’t take back what I did, but I swear to you, I’m learning. I’ll try to never do anything so stupid and hurtful again, but if I ever do something wrong, the moment I realise, I’ll talk it over with you. I promise.”
Muscles that seem to have been tensed since the moment my phone pinged with the dreadful message finally relax. Until he said the words, I wasn’t even sure I knew what I was holding out for; only that so far, I hadn’t heard enough to let me trust him again.
But this is enough. Learning from his mistake is enough. Trying to make it up to me is enough.
And buying me a private concert with the most in-demand musician of my generation is just so ridiculously absurd that I’m still not entirely convinced I’m not dreaming.
I stop and pinch my arm.
“What are you doing?” Micah asks, frowning at me. “I thought I was in charge of handing out punishment?”
“Just checking this is really happening.”
