And maybe this was what he wanted. To think of all the good between them, and not the bad. To hold onto it, rather than let it go.
Or maybe just to enjoy it, one last time.
The band picked up again, and Kyle gave her a lopsided grin. “They’re playing our song.”
“I thought our song was by that British band—” she started to say, but he squeezed her hand tighter.
“Come on, Brooke. What’s one more dance?”
One more, or one last? Suddenly, she didn’t want to know.
“One,” she said firmly. “And only because it beats standing next to the punch bowl, feeling like an old lady.”
“You’re the same age as me!” He laughed.
“You don’t think that’s old to these kids?” she chided.
She waited for him to drop her hand now that she was following him onto the dance floor, but he showed no signs of it, and instead gave her one graceful twirl before wrapping his free hand around her waist and pulling her close.
She blanched. It was their wedding dance. The very entry that they had rehearsed over and over after three lessons at the dance studio, the one that had been greeted with a roar of applause by their friends and family. But the song…the song was familiar, now, as she listened to the words. It was the first song that they had ever danced to, long before prom, when they were still two gangly teens, before everything got complicated.
She closed her eyes and listened to the music, trying not to focus on the beat of Kyle’s heart against her own, on the way his body felt pressed against hers, at the way he sang softly in her ear, just like he had on their wedding night, and every night that they had rehearsed their moves, laughing at first, before falling into a steady rhythm.
She’d been so happy. Life had felt so full. Her entire future felt so certain.
And then…
She pulled away, shaking her head. Kyle stared at her, looking bewildered.
“Is something wrong?”
“Of course something is wrong!” she heard herself snap. “Everything is wrong, Kyle. This is wrong. You and me, dancing like nothing ever happened. Like the past six years never happened. Like I didn’t move away.”
“Like I didn’t stay back,” he finished. His jaw tensed. “Brooke, I didn’t do this to upset you.”
She blinked away the tears that threatened to spill, not wanting to make a scene, even if a quick glance around reassured her that none of these kids were looking at the thirty-somethings in the room. They had their own romantic woes to worry about.
She caught herself on that thought. There was no romance left between her and Kyle. That had ended a very long time ago, and it never should have been revisited.
“I need some air,” she said, breaking away from him. She grabbed her clutch, pushing around tables and girls in chiffon dresses, desperate to get out the doors of the gym, this school, maybe even this town.
Her heels were loud in the empty corridor, but the door creaked open loudly behind her, just as she knew it would.
“Why won’t you let this go?” she asked, whipping around to face him. “You and I were over a long time ago.”
He pushed his hands into his pockets, giving her a long, uncertain look. “Because it wasn’t easy to let you go, Brooke. And…I guess it still isn’t.”
He had her there. Managed to snag her breath away. She stared at him, feeling unbalanced and unsure.
“But…you never came after me. You didn’t try to stop me.”
“Is that what you really wanted? For me to tell you not to go?” His expression looked pained. “Going to New York had been your dream. Our dream,” he corrected himself softly. “Just because I had to give it up, didn’t mean you should.”
Her mouth felt dry, and her head was spinning. All this time she’d assumed he’d never supported her, when it turned out, maybe that was never true at all.
But one thing was, she thought, hardening her resolve. “You didn’t have to give it up, Kyle. You chose to give up our dream, our plan.” She swallowed hard. “Us. You chose to give up on us.”
“You think that was easy?” He’d raised his voice, anger pushing through the sadness that hung between them, like a weight that they couldn’t shed. “I didn’t feel I had a choice at the time. I didn’t see another way. I had an obligation.”
“And I wasn’t an obligation? I was your wife.”
“And he was my father!” Kyle ground out.
Brooke closed her mouth. She couldn’t argue with that. And much as it still hurt her now, a part of her also understood it.
“I waited for you, you know,” she said, surprised at herself for admitting this. Once, she had been so mad at Kyle that she couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing just how many nights she’d cried for him, longed for him. Missed him.
And wondered if she hadn’t made the biggest mistake of her life.
“You never called,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t either.”
“I didn’t think you wanted me to,” Kyle said, giving a little grin that showed no amusement.
Her heart felt heavy, thinking of all the time they’d lost. Of all that might have been. Could have been.
And maybe, should have been.
“Why did you never come back to town?” he asked suddenly, looking her square in the eye. “Oh, I heard you stopped through once for a few days. But other than that you stayed away.”
“Because of you!” she cried, exasperated. “Because of this. You and me. And what we had.
