“I was exonerated.”
I shook my head, not understanding.
“I’m not guilty. They figured it out and set me free.”
I blinked. “Oh? Who do they...”
He grinned and leaned forward. “It’s okay, Daisy, they are none the wiser. Dennis Wolfsheim confessed.”
“Confessed?”
Gatsby nodded and then stood. He went to the ice bucket, pulling two champagne flutes from behind it.
“Actually, I need water.” I laughed nervously and stood. He frowned, but nodded and went to get me a glass.
“Thank you. All of this is amazing, but...” I laughed. “I’m kind of in shock, Gatsby. You’re completely free?”
“Completely free.” He stood with me, watching my every reaction, almost as if, like me, he was worried I was just a mirage, a fantasy, another dream. We sat again, and I began asking him question after question. How was jail? Were you hurt during that time? Was it hard hearing what people said about you? What did you do with the time? And in turn, he asked me about ballet school, the company I joined, and the highlights of my career. We refused to have a single moment of silence. We had so much time to make up for.
“You came back for me.” The words came out in a whisper.
“Of course I did.” He sounded almost offended at the thought that he wouldn’t. “I promised you I would. I kept my promise, and you kept yours.”
“What?” I was taking a drink right as he spoke, and I choked on the water. He took my cup quickly, and I coughed.
“I made you promise not to tell anyone about what happened that night, and you didn’t.”
“Right.” I blinked rapidly. “Of course.”
My face flushed, and I sat on the couch, my mood completely deflating, the engagement ring on my hand suddenly weighing twenty tons. I forced myself not to look at it. I didn’t want to draw attention.
I’d broken his other promise.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you need to lie down? Or eat something?” He sat beside me and reached for my hand. I raised my eyes to his, and as I did, I raised my hand. Slowly, both of our gazes moved to my hand, and then the ring.
His lips parted as he stared at it.
“I—”
A loud clicking came from the front room, and I pulled my hand back and we both stood, as if caught red-handed.
“Knock, knock!” Neal called loudly. They came into the living room and looked around. “Wow, you were here all night and haven’t touched a thing.”
“All night?” I blinked and looked toward the windows. The rain had stopped at some point, and the sun was rising over the lake.
“Yep. I’d love to host you longer, but I’m kind of tired, and my neighbor bought me all new bedding. I’m actually looking forward to sleeping alone.”
“Oh. Yes, I… I’m sorry we intruded so long. I should go.” I looked around with sudden clarity. What was I doing here? Max would be furious. Where was my phone, my purse?
“You have to go?” Gatsby asked, his face falling. I stared into those eyes and found myself shaking my head.
“No.” I stepped into his arms. I never wanted to go. I wanted to be wherever he was for the rest of my life. We’d lost so much time as it was.
“Why don’t you take her to your place?” Neal suggested.
Gatsby’s attention shot to Neal, and he glared at them.
“You have a place? Where?” I asked.
