Last Dance

Killian

I held Sera close and danced through the garden of the house I’d grown up in, tracing steps I’d learned ages ago watching my mother and father. The strains of the last song colored the night air, something bittersweet I’d picked out. Just one more chorus, and I’d whisk her away. Just like that first night, except she was just as desperate to leave with me. I memorized every element of her face. The soft pink lipstick she’d picked because it promised to be kiss-proof, dulled in the middle and smeared outside her lips. The locks of soft brown hair tumbling out of her updo. The tantalizingly short hem of her reception dress that she kept smacking my hands away from, reminding me I’d promised to wait until the wedding ended.

“I love you,” I said.

She laughed. “I love you, too.”

Our friends swirled around us, planets in orbit telling the story of our time together. Patrick, red-faced, held a grinning Olivia. As much as he struggled, I didn’t doubt he’d find the courage in him to ma