Page 117 of Shadow Dance
The evening airis balmy and alive with laughter and music. Cruz and I are sitting at one of the long, rustic tables draped with greenery and flickering candles. We’re surrounded by people who love us, and while not everyone knows what it took to get us here, they’re still here because they care.
“Sometimes I still can’t believe this is real,” I say, sipping my non-alcoholic cider after Tristan’s toast. “Not only did we make it out of that place, we ended up here.”
The sun has started setting, painting the sky in vibrant pinks and golds, and strings of twinkle lights blink on around the garden, casting a soft glow.
“It is kind of crazy,” Cruz agrees. Lifting my hand to his lips, he presses a gentle kiss to my knuckles. His hair has grown out again,though it isn’t as long as it once was.“Although I can’t regret that place. It brought me to you.”
“Aww, that’s true.” He’s right. I can’t regret it either. Not only did it bring us to each other, it made us who we are today. Everything that happens in our lives shapes us, and while certain things leave scars, I’m learning that’s not always a bad thing.
A group of distant relatives from Ireland stop by to congratulate us, followed by Cruz’s aunt, uncle, and cousins from Puerto Rico. We chat with them for a minute, raising another small toast and taking a few pictures.
“You know,” I muse as they amble away. “I used to think relationships were supposed to be hard work, but this doesn’t feel like work. It’s easy with you.”
It’s not like we never, ever argue, but there’s no needless drama with Cruz. At one point in my life I’d once accepted that as a normal part of relationships, but now I realize it’s not.
“Yeah, I didn’t do relationships for a long time because of that,” he says. “It seemed like everyone I knew was either fighting or cheating.”
“That’s grim,” I agree.
“It is, but it’s not us.”
“Maybe that should’ve been your vow,” I joke.
“Next time,” he says with a wink.
A live band begins to play, and guests drift to the open area to dance. Slipping out of my lovely but uncomfy ballet flats, I pull Cruz out of his seat so we can join them. He draws me close as we sway to the music, savoring this perfect moment.
Closing my eyes, I melt into him and send up a prayer of thanks. I never thought I could be this happy with someone. I came so close to not having this. What would my life have been like if Cruz had never found me?
And it’s not even like everything is perfect, because it’s not. I don’t have nightmares anymore, and I no longer take medication, but not a day goes by that I don’t think about Callum. Sometimes I still wonder if I could’ve done something differently, but mostly I’ve made peace with it. I’ve had to in order to move on.
I’ve made peace with a lot of things. Instead of being frustrated atthe younger versions of myself, I have compassion for them. I’m grateful for them because they gave me what I have now.
“What are you thinking about?” Cruz asks as I rest my cheek on his chest. I’m probably getting makeup all over his suit, but oh well.
“How lucky I am. How far we’ve come,” I say. “All that sappy stuff.”
Suddenly, Cruz swings me around just as a little group of kids barrels by. Bright red punch sloshes from one of their cups, splashing the ground where I was just standing.
“Gotta protect the dress,” he says with a wink, palms pressed to the small of my back as he holds me close.
“That was a close call.” I tiptoe, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, bodyguard.”
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Slàinte, hugs & kisses,
Ro
