Ray spun me again, his hand warm at my waist.
I smiled when I was supposed to. Nodded. Played my part.
But my thoughts weren’t here, they were at the edge of the dance floor. Wondering if Logan noticed. Wondering if he cared. Wondering why I cared whether he cared.
Ray lips pulled into a boyish grin like we were teenagers again at some backyard graduation party instead of standing under a canopy at my best friend’s wedding. Although his interest was clear, his hand stayed respectfully light as the music shifted into something upbeat and nostalgic.
“You still do that thing,” he said, laughing as I spun out of his reach and back in again.
“What thing?”
“Pretend you’re not the most stubborn person in the room.”
I laughed, genuinely this time. “I am not stubborn.”
He just raised an eyebrow.
Ray had always shown interest in a gentle, uncomplicated way. When we were younger, he’d linger a little too long during holidays, texted a little too often when I was home from college. Asked about my life, as if he were collecting pieces he hoped would eventually fit into his.
And I’d never let them.
Not because he wasn’t a nice guy. He was kind, thoughtful, and respectful. The kind of man my aunts used to nudge me about with knowing smiles.
But it had always felt like he liked the outline of me. The idea of me. The composed, capable version that showed up at family functions with polite laughter and a reassuring future and just enough mystery to be interesting.
He didn’t know the messy parts. The hidden anxieties, the sharp edges I tried to sand down, the way I sometimes felt as though I was holding myself together with an invisible thread.
He liked the highlight reel, most men did.
The truth was, I hadn’t dated much. I’d told myself it was because I was busy, focused, content, and some of that wastrue. But a larger part of me had grown tired of explaining who I actually was beneath the polished surface. The constant translating of myself left a heaviness between my shoulder blades, an ache that deepened every time I had to smile through disappointment.
I had decided after my last relationship that I was done pretending I was someone else.
That was a year ago. Jason hadn’t been a bad guy. We went to law school together and had good moments. But when I accepted the job in the public defender’s office and refused to join his parents’ big corporate firm, that was the end of that. His family wanted a perfect picture, cared more about status, and their pockets. My own parents weren’t too happy either, and their displeasure, the weight of every sacrifice they’d ever made for me, clung like a shadow.
Just as I got deeper into my thoughts, Ray spun me again, and this time I let myself laugh without measuring it. The music was loud, the lights warm against my skin, the hem of my dress brushing my legs as I moved.
Ray leaned in. “I’ve missed you, you know.”
“I know,” I said softly, and I did. “It’s been a while.”
But tonight, I didn’t dissect it. Didn’t over-analyze the tone of his voice or the weight of his hand at my waist. Instead, I let the music carry me, let the bass thrum through my ribs.
Let the moment exist without trying to decide what it meant.
Under the glow of lights, I danced.
And for once, forced myself not to think about anything more than that.
Chapter 2
Logan
Ishould’ve stayed home.
That was the first mistake I made tonight.
The second was convincing myself I could stand at the edge of a wedding reception and remain untouched by it.
