Chelle comes over when the next song starts and tries to get Ben to dance with her. When he says no, she graciously retreats and gets Michael to dance with her instead.
I’m having a good time. A better time than I can remember having for ages. The music is mostly familiar, so sometimes I can sing along. But even when I can’t, I still feel it in my chest, in my throat, in my gut.
A reminder of something human it’s easy to forget.
Something that matters as much as the fight.
When Vella and Sasha converse briefly and then play the opening strains of a popular, fast-tempo love song, there’s a round of cheers and I sit up straighter, because I love this one too.
Ben has been enjoying the music like I am, twirling with ring on his finger and keeping time by tapping hisfoot, but now he clears his throat and hefts himself to his feet.
I look up at him, surprised and confused by his leaving such a good time.
But he’s not going anywhere. With a self-deprecating quirk of a smile on his face, he extends his hand to me.
I blink. “What?”
“You know what. Get your little ass up.”
Vella huffs, losing a few notes on her harmonica as she shakes with amusement.
“Excuse me?” I ask with teasing loftiness. I’m not remotely annoyed. I’m oddly, irrationally thrilled.
“You heard me… ma’am.”
Giving him the eye roll he deserves, I stand up. He keeps hold of my hand as he leads me to the middle of the floor.
There’s an excited murmur—either about me dancing or me dancing with Ben, I don’t know.
I’m not a dancer. As girls in the village, we used to dance around sometimes, pretending we were fancy ladies. But my mother walked out on us when I was barely a teenager, so I never learned any formal steps, and after my father married Lorraine, my stepmother, we weren’t given any freedom to have fun or interact outside the household.
But I can make my body move the way everyone else is right now. There’s nothing practiced or skilled about this spontaneous expression of joy. Ben holds one hand andputs the other on my waist, and he leads me around in simple steps.
And I love it. Iloveit. Not just doing something for no other reason than enjoyment but also because of how it feels to move with him this way. There’s a warm smile in his eyes that’s only barely unfolding on his mouth. And it seems to reach all the way inside me.
I can feel it in my chest, where my heart is pounding strangely fast.
And I can feel it lower, below my belly. It’s not arousal—that would startle me enough to distract me—but it’s something deep and possessive.
As if this man, this strong, faithful, warmhearted man, is smiling just for me.
I don’t know why he would. I don’t know how I’ve done anything to deserve it. I’ve been guarded and intensely focused for most of the time I’ve known him.
But I feel it anyway.
And I never want it to end.
It does, of course. The song does anyway. Vella and Sasha start up a new one—a slower one. The other couples are closing the distance between their bodies, swaying with the tender rhythm of the new song.
Ben is waiting to see what I’ll do.
I want it. More than I’ve ever understood about myself before. I want him to pull me into his arms like that. I want to sway with him, hold on to him tightly.
But just the thought of it makes me feel… soft.
And I’ve never been soft. I’ve always been sharp and bright and wound as tightly as a bow.
That’s what I need to be—to do what I’ve committed to do.
