Page 119 of At First Dance
A long pause stretches between us. The kind that usually comes before the part where everything changes. I can feel it hovering, that invisible line we keep toeing. But this time, I don’t want to wait for it to crack open on its own.
I lift my head, meeting his gaze. “I need to tell you something.”
Rowan tenses beneath me, just barely. “If you’re about to say you’re leaving again…”
“No,” I say quickly, pressing a palm to his chest. “No. I’m not. At least—not unless you tell me to.”
His brow furrows. “Why would I do that?”
I look away for a beat. “Because of what I’ve been hiding.”
That gets his attention.
He pulls back slightly, still keeping one hand anchored on my thigh. “Ivy…”
“My mom. The label. They’ve been on me nonstop since I left Nashville the first time.” I swallow. “There were meetings lined up. Press tours. Brand deals. They kept dangling this image of who I’m supposed to be and panicking that I’ve been ‘off-script.’”
Rowan’s jaw tightens. “That’s what they called it?”
“Yeah.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Like being with you—beinghere—was some sort of detour I wasn’t allowed to take.”
His fingers flex against my leg. “You’re not a detour.”
“I know that,” I say, heart catching. “Now. But I didn’t for a long time.”
He waits, silent but open, eyes locked on mine.
“I told them I wouldn’t do it anymore.” I go on. “The press circuit. The fake romance rumors. The glossed-over version of my life that they keep trying to rewrite.”
Rowan raises an eyebrow. “Fake romance rumors?”
I wince. “There’s been a… lot. Articles. Speculation. Mostly about Crew and me. Some… implying you’re the other man.”
Rowan lets out a low curse. “Jesus.”
“I didn’t write any of it. I didn’t agree to it,” I say, then the rest just tears loose. “And then the aura hit—this bright edge in my vision—and I was in that stupid cold apartment by myself.” My throat works. “The seizure—it wasn’t long. Under five minutes. I didn’t pass out. I did the breathing, tucked in, then waited for it to crest and go. But afterward I just… shook. I was scared and furious and so, so alone. The kind of alone that makes you feel like a headline instead of a person. I turned my phone off because every call felt like someone trying to own a piece of me.” I lift my eyes to his. “That’s why I left. Not the press. Not the meetings. I couldn’t do another minute of being a body they plan around.”
Rowan steps in, palms open. His thumb sweeps one tear I didn’t feel fall. “You’re not doing that alone again,” he says, voice low and certain. “Not while I’m breathing.” He tips his forehead to mine. “You don’t have to be brave by yourself anymore, Ivy. Not here. Not with me.”
I blink back the sting in my eyes. “I want you to know that I didn’t choose them. I chose this.You.”
He stares at me for a long beat, like he’s trying to decide whether he believes me. Then he says, “I know.”
I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. He brushes my hair back behind my ear, fingertips lingering against my cheek.
“You wanna know something else?” he asks quietly.
“Always.”
He smiles a little. “I’ve never seen the kids at the farm light up like they did today.”
My heart swells. “Really?”
“Yeah. And it wasn’t just the animals or the rides. It was the music. The way you sang. The way you made them feel like they mattered.” He pauses. “You’re part of this place now, whether you realize it or not.”
I curl against his chest, heart thudding.
“I used your sketch,” he adds. “The flyer you drew on the napkin at the café. I made copies. Ma’s friends handed them out all over town. Bailey helped get the volunteers lined up.”
