The night I’d watched him walk out of my life.
I straightened my shoulders, trying not to fidget as the sequins of my dress rubbed uncomfortably against me. What I wouldn’t give to be in my sweats right now.
At his insistence, I’d let Brock buy me a new dress for the occasion. I still wasn’t used to his proclivity for lavish gifts. His dress pick was beautiful, but sequins were not my fabric of choice. I tuned back in to the group’s back and forth and tried to find moments to chime in as the conversation continued flowing across our table.
I knew what Cade was trying to do. He was testing Brock, keeping score of his answers. I tried to telepathically tell him toknock it off. So what if Brock didn’t know about my love of sunflowers? My mind flipped back to a vast field of them, Cade’s hand in mine as he dragged me along, both of us laughing inour carefree way. Laying on a blanket in an open field, eating strawberries and sharing dreams.
One day I’ll take you to Africa, he’d promised.We’ll see cheetahs and giraffes and rhinos.
I’d seen the whole world open up for me in those unique blue-brown eyes. But those were just childish dreams, right?
I forced my mind back to a more recent image, the vase of fresh red roses on my counter. Amanda was answering my question about flowers, but I was barely paying attention to her words. They felt muted and far away, lost in the haze of Cade’s eyes boring into me.
“... something the person across from you doesn't know about you?" I caught the tail end of what Amanda was saying, and my eyes went to Cade. His eyes were already laser-focused on me.
For ten years we’d told each other everything. Every wish, every secret, every fear, every pain. For the past five years, he’d been a veritable stranger. I didn’t know anything about his life now, nor did he know about mine.
“I’m a nurse,” I blurted out, responding awkwardly to the question.
Cade’s eyebrows rose ever so slightly, and he smiled a soft smile. He’d known since his family’s tragic house fire that I’d wanted to do a job that would help people, possibly save people.
I’d felt so helpless back then. We’d come home from vacation late one evening to see the neighborhood bathed in flashing blue and red lights. The huge red fire truck had blocked both mine and Cade’s driveways. As we approached the scene in our station wagon, my mom flew into a panic, fearing it was our house engulfed in flames. I could still hear her high-pitched voice in my head, shrieking at my father to find out what was going on. I could still smell the smoke that choked the air.
We quickly learned it was the Adlers’ house, not ours. In the darkness I could just make out the charred form of what was left of their home. The first responders were a blur of rapid movement around the scene. Thank God everyone had survived unscathed. That night, and in the weeks that followed, I’d wanted so badly to do something—anything—to fix the brokenness of that situation. All their possessions, all their memories—lost.
“That’s great, Brooke!” Nic chimed in, responding to my answer. “Nursing suits you. You always did love helping others.” I gave her a grateful smile. She was so genuine and sweet.
“A doctor and a nurse—another way we’re a perfect match.” Brock slid his arm around me and pulled me into him. The itchy fabric rubbed against my shoulders, making them feel burned, chafed. I rolled my engagement ring around my finger.
My joints were stiffening from so much sitting. My knee began to shake. I forced myself to keep a pleasant smile on my face.
The others continued to swap stories back and forth, but I found myself tuning them out, my attention waning as my body protested sitting still. I wanted to enjoy catching up with my friends, but I was physically uncomfortable, which I found made it hard to focus in social situations. My fingers began toying with the card in front of me. Waiters were beginning to bring plated dinners to our tables. The conversation game was almost over.
“What's your biggest regret?” I read out from the card. This time my eyes met Cade’s in challenge, but he looked down at his lap.
Bryan spoke up instead. “Not having the guts to ask this fiery sprite to the prom,” he said, motioning to Nic. She grinned, and he went on. “I was too nervous. Nerdy ol’ me, and she wassoout of my league.” His eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled down at her.
“I would’ve said yes, you know.” She bumped his shoulder with hers. “Then I wouldn’t have had to slow dance with mycousin.” She made a face, and everyone at the table chuckled. Nic always had an uncanny ability to make everyone around her comfortable.
We settled into a steady rhythm of surface-level dinner conversation, broken up by clinking silverware against our plates as everyone enjoyed their catered meal. When I finished eating, I could no longer sit still, so I pushed up from my chair. My joints were screaming.
“Excuse me, guys—I need to find the ladies’ room.”
The dinner had been delicious, but my senses were overloaded with other sensations: the way my dress fabric continued to rub my skin raw in spots, the way the straps of my kitten heels dug into the tops of my feet. My knees felt warm and my hands tingled. I just needed to step away and have a moment to breathe.
I checked my makeup in the bathroom mirror. I gave my reflection a weary smile. I could fake my way through for another hour, maybe two. I forced myself to focus on the positives: My makeup still looked good. I truly was enjoying reconnecting with my old classmates, and I was so happy for Nic and Bryan, finding each other after years apart. They were clearly two halves of a whole. There was no need to draw attention to my own struggles and take away from the cheery atmosphere of the evening.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I made my way out of the bathroom, mentally coaching myself into keeping my mood up. I hung back and saw that a band had begun after-dinner music on stage, and couples and friends had begun dancing.
I suddenly felt a presence at my back. I didn’t have to turn to know who it was. He smelled like sandalwood, smooth and woodsy like the balsam trees behind his childhood home.
“Dance with me?” Cade whispered in my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt across my skin. “For old times’ sake?”
I leaned back slightly, his warm scent enveloping me. I nodded, once, and he slipped his hand into mine as he led me to the dance floor. His hands felt calloused, no longer baby smooth like they’d been in high school. Just one of the many ways he’d changed from the boy I used to know. I spared a glance back to our table and saw Brock chatting animatedly, keeping reunion guests entertained with one of his winning anecdotes.
He probably wouldn’t even notice my absence.
Cade and I moved into a formal slow-dance stance with a chaste distance between our bodies. My left hand gently rested on Cade’s muscled shoulder, and my right lifted to be held by his left. His right hand found my hip, and we began to sway.
