Page 83 of Why Not Now?

She leaves us and we return to our seats for the second half of the show.

“Maybe I should call Carter and ask about the battery,” Ava says as we wait for the curtains to rise.

Now is my chance to bring up the fact that I paid for the maintenance. Just explain everything rationally and it’ll all be fine. But I remember how she’d been so excited about the ballet, and I don’t want to ruin that with a difficult conversation. So, I put it off again.

Instead, I say, “It’s probably nothing to worry about or he would have mentioned it when you picked up the car.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

She doesn’t say anything else about it because the show begins and she returns to the edge of her seat.

When it’s over and the bows and ovations are done, I guide her to my car, one hand on the small of her back. I hand her my phone. The music is always her choice, even though I’m praying to anyone who will listen that she doesn’t choose the song that had been set to play next on the Cool Down list. It’s the one song that hurts the most to hear.

Thankfully, she chooses some classical music I’m almost certain is from the ballet we just watched, and we drive to her house where I park in the back next to her car, grabbing an overnight bag before following her into her room. She goes upstairs to check on Lacey and I take off my jacket, draping it over the chair with her stuffed animals gathered together. I reach into the inside pocket and pull out the little velvet box that has been in my drawer for close to nine years. I don’t open it, looking at the outside, spinning it between my hands as I consider whether I should give it to her.

Regardless, it’s hers.

I hear her steps on the stairs and put the box back in my jacket pocket before returning to the door to take off my shoes.

“She’s already asleep,” Ava says, pulling pins from her hair. “I’m going to wash my face.” She steps out of the shoes, dropping an inch and a half in height, and leaves the room again.

I set my phone on her dresser and untuck my shirt, pulling the belt from my pants next. Mostly things just to get more comfortable than because I’m anxious to be naked with her. Though I am. I’m looking out the back window when the first piano chords of “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri start playing.

I turn to see Ava with my phone in her hand, the bedroom door closed behind her. She’s taken off the earrings, but left the necklace on, and it looks so good around her throat, partly because I put it there.

“I was wondering if you’d like to dance,” she says, dropping the phone into one of the dress pockets.

My heart aches as she crosses the room to where I’m standing. She must know what she’s doing, the song she’s chosen. I can’t be the only one who remembers.

She twists her arms around my neck and I pull her against me, my hands on her waist as we sway to the music. Our eyes remain locked together.

“That was some dance, wasn’t it?” she says.

I know she’s not talking about the ballet we just watched. She’s talking about the one when we’d danced to this song. “It was the Christmas dance,” I say. “Grade twelve. You wore a green dress—”

“Just like tonight.”

I shake my head. “It was a lighter green, and it sparkled.”

“You remember,” she says with a smile. “This one is better. It has pockets.”

I snort. “That’s why Adalie and Lis picked it out. Women and pockets.”

She must have put the song on repeat because it starts over and we continue dancing.

“That was the night we said—”

I cover her lips with my hand. “Don’t. I can’t.”

Her body stiffens, and she looks hurt, like I’m rejecting her. Could she have brought up the memory because she feels the same way now as we did back then? Do I take the chance that she does?

With my heart doing acrobatics in my chest, I close my eyes and decide to risk everything. I lean my forehead against hers and don’t open my eyes. Like the first time I said it, I can’t bear to look if I say this now and she doesn’t say it back.

“Before I say this, I need you to understand. I’m not just trying to replay the memory. This is me saying it to you now.” I take a breath, trying to calm my nerves. “I love you, Ava.”

For a moment, she doesn’t say anything. Then she gently removes my hand from her mouth and I realize I hadn’t actually let her go.

“I love you, too, Derek. Now. Today. I love you.”

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