Page 58 of All the Promises We Break

Hayley picks up the front of her flowing black dress and descends the stairs first. She finds me with a grin and a wink, as if to say you’re welcome. Dylan has changed from the gorgeous princess who walked to me at the front of the church.

“Go get her, my boy. I can’t wait to see you finally dance with your perfect partner.”

With a little shove at the back, I cross the crowded room, much like I did the first night we met. Her hair that was pulled up this afternoon is now flowing in waves down her back. The miles of lace that surrounded her body have now become a halter neck that continues to give me every bit of her shoulders.

The light catches the fabric, and it shimmers much like the hint of the devil in her eyes. The closer I get, the hem falls around her knee like her favorite dance costumes and for an extra bonus, she has shimmering laces in her white sneakers.

I stand at the base of the stairs, struck for a minute before I extend my hand up to her. The light catches in my bride’s ring just prior to coming to rest in my hand.

Her toes point inside the sneakers to glide over each stair until she reaches the one just above the bottom. We’re now eye to eye. My hand traces up her neckline to rest at the base, hidden from all view. Dylan shivers just enough for me to see but no one else.

My fingers dance a little bit into her hair with the softest of tugs. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful.”

“Just wait until tonight.”

She smiles as I growl in her ear, “Which wife will I get? Dylan or Viper?”

“Likely a hybrid. I like to keep you guessing though.”

“Well, wife, you’re not the only one who has a few surprises up their sleeve.”

“Tease.” She reaches up and layers her hand over mine beneath her hair as she leans in to take my lips.

“You’ve trained me well.”

Wes signals me from over where the music is being played tonight. He, of course, had the connection for the post dinner music tonight. His friend who was on the night Dylan and I met for the first time is here for our new first. I give Wes a nod as he takes the microphone.

“Good evening, everyone. I know you’re probably tired of hearing from me.” Wes points to the right side of the dance floor. “Nothing out of you, Mr. Roark. You’re next. However, as the best man, the groom has given me one final duty for the night. He has a gift for his new bride. They have a special first dance planned for this evening. Hopefully, Dylan can improvise. Don’t fall, Goose.”

Wes hands the mic back as the laughter diminishes into a rumbled hush from our guests. “Are you ready, Mrs. Sawyer?” I ask.

“What did you do?”

“Same dance, same partner. I just have something I want to say to you in the same way you did the first night we met.”

Her eyes look at me quizzically as the song begins to fill the room. “The lyrics say what my head is thinking and my body is feeling. It's a different kind of vow to you.”

Brian McKnight’s version of “Crazy Love” begins to echo as the crowd parts for us to take center stage under the lights. I cradle her body in front of mine as we walk, her back to my front. Each step is a beat. The music. Our hearts.

I spin her body around slowly in my arms. Both of my hands ride her arms to rest on either side of her neck. Her hands splay across my jacket, over my rib cage, as our foreheads touch. I don’t need to hear her heartbeat. I can feel it. Every time she smiles I know I’ll be happy for the rest of my life.

I roll her neck and she arches in my hands to what I feel is a brilliant picture of her body. Each arch, movement, position is a new picture. They’re all ones I want to remember forever.

Wes challenged Dylan to improvise. It’s what she does best. She’s a chameleon when she needs to be and even when she doesn’t. She’s been caring for me every hour of every day since the accident. She makes me laugh even when I think I can’t. She lets me live in sadness only long enough to work through it, then brings me back out. Dylan has stolen my heart and I’m happy to give it to her.

We live in her lyrical dance world for about half the song and then I take Dylan in the waltz pose we’ve shared on her loft dance floor. We transition like day into night. Passion into a slow burn. Like the song is telling us: I want to hold her, kiss, and hug her like this each and every day and night. I can’t wait to have her alone.

As the song slides into its end, she pulls herself into my arms like I’m the blanket she needs to keep warm, the home she wantsto live in. I slowly dip her, feeling that sweet arch of her back in my hands. This time she tucks a barely-there bit of hair behind my ear and tells me the four words I’ll never tire of her saying, “I love you, Eli.”

“I love you too. Don’t you ever forget it.”

Wes

I stand next to the bar and watch Eli and Dylan dance. I have a string of fucking thoughts running at racing speed. Some are selfish, some are grateful, and some are things I don’t often play, which is looking further ahead than today.

There’s no one who deserves what I’m watching more than Eli. He’s always been the good guy, a good guy who’s had shit things happen to him, but he always eventually manages to rise. I don’t know how to be the good guy, at least not the kind who could have what he has.

I tried to be the good guy and failed.

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