ROMANCE STORY COLLECTIONS

2. Dance With Me

ZEKE

I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry. 

I wiped the traitorous lone tear that betrayed my emboldened mantra after I'd walked in on my date and girlfriend of one year, Tessa, getting it on with my cousin in the bathrooms.

She had left her purse on the table, and I knew how much she loved to line and gloss her lips, so I took it to her after she hadn't returned to the table ten minutes later.

Shock on me.

As I wobbled back to the wedding reception, I narrowly missed running into the a-thousand-glass champagne tower with overflowing bubbly rosé, which was my sister's beloved centerpiece. Their first dance as a married couple was "Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran," and now they were slow-dancing to Lana Delaray's Young and Beautiful.

Young and beautiful–I couldn't feel further from those words because I was the eldest in a family of five children, and all my siblings had married or dated for longer than I had. My brother always joked that I had a failure to launch sign on my forehead.

Feeling the sting of humiliation on my fingertips, I wanted nothing more than for Tessa to see me on the white rose-petaled dance floor dancing with another girl. Maybe she'd know how it feels even though I realize now why all my friends said she was with me for my family name and wealth.

"W-would you l-like to d-dance with me?" 

I wasn't nervous because I'd taken a swig of aged scotch and then marched up to the prettiest bridesmaid and asked her to dance with me. I was born a stutterer. And with time, I got used to people laughing at me when I said "g-g-good morning."

"Oh, you are talking to me?" She asked politely. Her accent was densely Irish. I had to read her lips to understand her. 

I nodded. 

"Okay! Sure!" She stretched out her hand, "Hi, I'm Raine."

"Hi, I'm Z-Zeke."

"You must be Serena's brother!" She exclaimed fondly, and I acknowledged while staring at her perfect face while holding her hand as we traipsed to the dance floor.

I may not utter with clarity, but I could express every emotion with my groovin'. For hours, we swung our hips, shimmied our shoulders, tapped our feet, twirled like children out for adventure–we danced like this day was made just for us, and perhaps it was. 

As the music's tempo slowed, we held each other like we never wanted to let go, like our time here had to continue in perpetuity. 

Her head was resting on my chest, while mine was on her shoulder. We swayed and listened to our erratic heartbeats find solace in one another.

When the music stopped, I beheld her adoringly because she was the first woman who made me feel I could be myself around her because that is who she wanted me to be.

"C-can I take you out on a date?"

"I'd love that, Zeke."

I palmed her face and kissed her like she was my lifeline.