19. Leah
CHAPTER 19
Leah
F or a moment, I froze. The applause erupted around me, but all I could hear was the pounding of my heart. Marco was the first to react, squeezing my hand and grinning at me like I’d just won an Olympic medal.
“Leah,” he said, his voice low but insistent. “Go.”
I stood, my legs a little unsteady in my heels, and made my way to the stage. The applause grew louder, and as I stepped behind the podium, I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
“Wow,” I said, the microphone amplifying my voice. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
A soft laugh rippled through the crowd, and I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders.
“When I started practicing law again after...well, for the second time, after my divorce.” I paused as some people laughed. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever find my place in this field again. But I did, and it’s because of the incredible women I’ve had the honor of representing. They remind me every day why this work matters. To the people in my life who stood by me—thank you for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”
My eyes landed on Marco. He was smiling at me, his eyes warm and filled with pride. “I thank you ,” I continued, but I was talking to him, and I could see he knew it, and that was all that mattered, “for reminding me that it’s okay to let people in, even when it feels scary. I’m lucky to have you in my life.”
The applause that followed was almost deafening as the photographer snapped away.
I stepped off the stage with the award in hand in a daze. I never expected this. I’d only started my practice a year ago. This was…amazing and unbelievable.
After the ceremony, Marco and I found a quiet corner of the ballroom where I could catch my breath. He handed me a glass of champagne, his grin still firmly in place.
“Nice speech.”
“I meant every word,” I told him earnestly.
“I think I’m the one who’s lucky to have you, carino .”
“Maybe we’re both lucky,” I said huskily, not able to look away from his hazel eyes.
“I’m very proud of you.”
I clutched the award hard, feeling the metal dig into the palm of my hand in the best possible way. “You’re one hell of a cheerleader, Marco Cabrera, and you don’t even wear a skirt.”
He laughed, the sound deep and warm. “Now, if that’s your thing, I think we can arrange it.”
I felt so happy that my heart felt like it would burst. “Did I sound okay?”
“Wonderful.”
“Too emotional?”
“Perfect.”
Perfect? Did he really think that, or was he just saying these things because he…what? Did he feel sorry for me? Maybe this was who he was. He threw compliments around. I knew that wasn’t true. I knew Marco even if we’d not known each other long. He was a genuinely honest man. And, yet, it was so hard to believe him.
“I didn’t trip, so I’ll call it a win,” I said nonchalantly, taking a sip of champagne.
He took the award from me and read aloud the message on it: “Leah Stahl, Divorce Lawyer of the Year.” He grinned wide. “This is so fucking cool. You are so fucking cool.”
“I…thank you.”
Marco reached out, brushing a stray curl from my face. “I mean it.”
Did he? Why did I doubt myself so much? Here was a beautiful, amazing man who was saying all these lovely things to me, and I was wondering what his agenda was. I was one screwed-up mess.