Page 77 of Every Star that Shines

He pulled her through them into the dim light and cooler air beyond, then up into the recesses of the wings—now mostly cleared out of kids, though some of the black-clad volunteer stage techs gave them curious glances as they tidied up.

He turned to face her, but he had so many thoughts whirling in his head, the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “What are you doing here?”

She smiled nervously. “Um, surprise?”

“Great job,” one of the volunteers called at them on his way by as he gathered up mislaid props.

Delanie smiled back at him. “Thanks.”

Caleb glanced at the man impatiently. This wasn’t the time for interruptions. “Do you want to go outside for a minute?”

She glanced at the doors below. “It’s freezing out there.”

He felt in his pocket. “I have my keys. We can sit in my truck.”

She gave him a look that made his heart start frolicking like a spring calf. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Delanie shivered in the front seat of Caleb’s truck as he climbed in the driver’s side and started the engine. In a few seconds, warm air began blowing into the cab. She angled toward him, her hands in her lap. He looked at her, confusion and uncertainty plain on his face.

“What’s going on, Delanie?”

She chewed the inside of her lip. This was what all of this had been leading up to—the finale she had envisioned when she had hatched her grand plan, inspired by Nan’s career scrapbook full of larger-than-life musicals. It had gone well so far, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t totally bomb at the finish line. For the second time that week, she sent up an actual prayer. Please give me the right words.

“I’m sorry, Caleb. I’m so sorry, for so many things. For breaking up with you after high school. For never putting you first. For not believing in us, not even when you proved I should.”

She took his hand.

“I’ve done so many things wrong, and you never stopped believing in me. You never stopped loving me, no matter how unloveable I was. And I don’t think I ever stopped loving you either. I don’t know what the future holds for me. For us. I just know that if I walk away now, I’ll regret it every day for the rest of my life.”

He stared at her. In the meagre light offered by the street lamps, his eyes were dark pools beneath bunched brows. “All that stuff you said in there about how you understood why Molly gave up her career to marry your Pops . . . is that what you intend to do? Give up your dream for me?”

Delanie would have bitten her nail, but she didn’t want to let go of Caleb’s hand. Instead, she swallowed her nerves and dove in.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think on a couple very long drives this week, and it made me realize that my dreams have changed shape from what they were a few months ago. I want to keep helping kids discover the joy of theatre. I want to have games nights with Emma on a regular basis. And I want to wake up next to you every day for the rest of my life, if you’ll still have me.” She leaned toward him. “Without you, Caleb, all the rest of my dreams—the fame, the prestige—none of it will matter. You’re my dream now.”

Her next sentence was cut off when he crushed her lips in a kiss that banished any remaining chill, the heat of it rushing through her every vein. She returned the kiss with an abandon she hadn’t felt since their prom night—before he had told her he wouldn’t be going with her to film school. Before she had stopped believing she was worthy of being first place in someone’s heart.

“I take it I’m forgiven?” she asked when they took a breath.

He smiled. “With all my heart, Delanie Fletcher.”

He brushed some hair behind her ear, then wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close, tucking her head beneath his chin. She twisted to embrace him as best she could over the centre console, but it was awkward, at best. The sound of a phone clattering between the console and the seats made them break apart.

“I think that was mine,” Delanie said, peering down the side of her seat in the dark. She wedged her hand next to the seat and felt the edge. “Yep, there it is. Give me a second.”

He looked at the centre console ruefully as she struggled to nudge the phone forward to where she could grasp it. “Usually this thing is so useful.”

She laughed. “We can pick up that conversation again later. We should probably go talk to the kids.”

He sighed. “I suppose.”

She finally got hold of the phone and held it up. “Victory!”

He frowned at it. “What’s that about?”

She peered at the screen, just catching an email notification from Tessa Montague before it faded to black. “I’m not sure.”

She unlocked the phone and tapped on the notification, quickly skimming the contents of the email. As she read, her heart swelled with elation.

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