Chapter 14 #2
We’re making our way toward the cocktail hour area when I spot Anna near the appetizer table. She waves enthusiastically, and I wave back, steering Micah in her direction.
“Anna! Hey!”
She beams, setting down her plate to hug me. “Harper! Oh my gosh, you look stunning. That dress is everything.”
“Thanks. You look amazing too.” I gesture to Micah. “This is—”
“The boyfriend!” Anna interrupts, turning to Micah with a grin. “The one with the dimples. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Micah’s eyebrows raise slightly, and I feel my cheeks heat.
“Have you?” he says, glancing at me with amusement.
“Don’t listen to her,” I mutter.
“Oh, I’m definitely listening,” he says, turning back to Anna. “What exactly did Harper say?”
Anna laughs. “Just that you’re sweet and patient and have a great smile. Oh, and that you work with kids, which is adorable.”
“Adorable,” Micah repeats, smirking. “Hear that, Harper? I’m adorable.”
“I never said adorable.”
“You definitely implied it,” Anna says, grabbing another appetizer.
Micah leans down, his breath warm against my ear. “I’m never letting you live this down, Freckles.”
The nickname sends a shiver down my spine, and I have to fight to keep my composure.
“Behave, Dimples,” I murmur back.
Anna’s eyes widen. “Wait, Dimples? That’s your nickname for him?”
“It’s—” I start.
“It’s perfect,” Anna finishes, grinning. Then she turns to Micah. “Wait, what do you call her?”
“Freckles,” Micah says, and the way he says it—soft and warm—makes my pulse skip.
Anna nearly squeals. “Oh my gosh, you two are disgustingly cute.”
Before I can respond, a man approaches carrying two drinks. He’s tall, dark-haired, wearing a charcoal suit that fits him well.
“Here you go, babe,” he says, handing Anna one of the glasses.
Anna lights up. “Perfect timing! Harper, Micah, this is my husband, Tim. Tim, this is Harper—we teach together—and her boyfriend, Micah.”
Tim shakes both our hands. “Nice to meet you both. Anna’s told me a lot about you, Harper.”
“Good things, I hope.”
“Mostly complaints about the copy machine,” he says with a grin.
Anna swats his arm. “That copy machine is a menace, and you know it.”
“How long have you two been married?” Micah asks.
“Six months,” Tim says, pulling Anna close. “Still in the honeymoon phase.”
“Barely,” Anna teases, but she’s smiling.
They’re sweet together. A couple that makes marriage look simple.
Micah chuckles, and I’m about to respond when he glances toward the bar. “I’m going to grab a water. Harper, do you want anything?”
I should say water. I should pace myself.
But my eyes drift across the room to where Collin is still standing with that girl, and before I can stop myself, I say, “Champagne.”
Micah hesitates. Just for a second. But I catch it.
And I wonder—does he disapprove? He’s so godly, so deeply rooted in his faith. He probably thinks drinking is worldly or irresponsible.
“Sure,” he says finally, his tone neutral. “I’ll be right back.”
He squeezes my hand once, then heads off, leaving me with Anna and Tim.
Anna immediately leans in, lowering her voice. “Okay, spill. He’s even better in person. How long have you two been together again?”
“About a month,” I say automatically.
“And it’s serious?”
“Yeah. Really serious, actually.”
Anna squeals, pulling me into another hug. “I’m so happy for you! This is amazing!”
“Thanks,” I manage, even though my stomach is churning.
When Anna finally lets go, I spot Micah returning from the bar, water bottle in one hand, my second glass of champagne in the other. He’s scanning the room, and when our eyes meet, he smiles.
That soft, genuine smile that does something complicated to my heart.
And I realize with sudden, terrifying clarity: I’m in way over my head.
Anna and Tim excuse themselves to mingle, and Micah appears at my side, handing me the water bottle first, then the champagne.
“Stay hydrated in between,” he says gently. “If you’re going to drink.”
“Thanks.” I take a sip of water, trying to calm my racing heart.
“So, what’s next?” he asks.
“Dinner, I think. They should seat us soon.”
He studies me for a moment, like he’s trying to read between the lines, but before he can say anything, the lights dim slightly and someone announces dinner is being served.
“Come on,” Micah says, offering his arm. “Let’s find our table.”
I loop my arm through his, and we make our way toward the seating chart.
And as we walk, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye.
Collin.
He’s watching us from across the room.
Not the girl. Not the champagne in his hand.
Us.
And for just a second, our eyes meet.
There’s something in his expression—surprise, maybe? Or regret?
I can’t tell.
But I lift my chin, tighten my grip on Micah’s arm, and smile.
Let him watch, I think. Let him see exactly what he’s missing.
Just because he’s with some girl tonight doesn’t mean I can’t still win him back. If anything, it proves he’s trying to move on—which means maybe he hasn’t yet.
Maybe there’s still a chance.
I recalibrate my plan, my determination solidifying.
This is still doable. I just have to be better. Smarter. More convincing.
And with Micah by my side, looking at me like I’m the only person in the room?
I can do this.
I will do this.
Collin will regret ever letting me go.