Chapter 24
Astrid
“The lights are still off,” I yelled out from center stage, squinting at Jason, the volunteer I'd put in charge of lighting. Dance rehearsals were starting in an hour, and the lights still weren’t working.
He adjusted something, and the spotlight flickered weakly.
“It's on!” My hope lasted about half a second before it blinked right back out. “Never mind. It’s off again.”
Jason fiddled with it once more.
“Okay, it's on now,” I called up. “Don’t touch anything! Let’s see if it stays.”
Out of nowhere, a neon-colored throwing ring flew toward the stage, no doubt tossed by some overly energetic kid. I caught it in midair, nearly saving the spotlight we'd spent the last half hour fixing.
“Lisa, the kids and their parents are coming, right? No last-minute surprises?”
Lisa, our dance volunteer, and a teacher from Orange Falls High had been helping both kids and their parents learn the dance steps. We’d added a special parent-child dance, giving families a fun way to bond.
“Yes,” Lisa said. “And they're all really excited, especially the parents.”
I tossed the ring back to the kid waiting by the stage, his puppy-dog eyes staring at me hopefully. “Careful where you throw this, okay?”
I caught a glimpse of Aeron at the far end of the park, despite the sea of heads blocking my view.
Too many people, too tall, yet somehow I found him anyway.
I wasn't sure if my eyes had intentionally searched for him, or if they'd finally stopped pretending otherwise.
My heart gave that small, ridiculous stutter it always seemed to when he was near.
He stood beside the half-built Ferris wheel, a folded manual in one hand, pointing something out to the operator under the scorching sun.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” I told Lisa, already half-turning. “Make sure the kids stay away from the stage.”
I walked toward Aeron, past tables packed with snacks and water bottles. Halfway there, I stopped, took two quick steps back, and grabbed a bottle. Aeron still hadn't noticed me. He was busy pointing at something in the manual.
“Who was it again that said breaks were important?”
He looked up from the manual and my breath caught in my throat.
The evening sun touched his face, catching the faint trail of sweat that traced from his temple down to his jaw. All I could think was how unfair it was for someone to look that ridiculously good after spending hours under the scorching heat.
“I don't know who that is.” He reached out, fingertips grazing mine as he took the bottle from my hand. “But he sounds pretty smart. You should listen to him more often.”
I tried not to stare, but my eyes had a mind of their own, shamelessly following the sweat trickling down his throat, and the distracting bob of his Adam’s apple. My throat went dry. I swallowed hard, regretting all the times I zoned out in biology class.
Who knew a human throat could be so incredibly fascinating?
“...rid?”
Coming here had been a terrible mistake. Dealing with the main-stage chaos would have been a hundred times safer.
“Astrid?” Aeron’s voice broke into my thoughts, pulling me back to present.
“Yes,” I said, too quickly, too loudly.
“You zoned out.” He fought back a smile. “Mind sharing where you went?”
Straight into a daydream about your stupidly distracting Adam’s apple, thanks for asking.
“I wasn’t zoning out. I was just thinking about work—kids, dance rehearsals, lots of things. I’ll get back to work.” I turned to leave, but his fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling me back toward him.
He studied my face. Leaning in close enough to set my heart beating too loud, he murmured, “You always blabber nonsense when you're lying.”
I didn't know that, or maybe I did, but no one had ever looked close enough to notice.
Except Aeron. Over these past two weeks, sorting through vendors and taste testing recipes, he'd gotten way too good at reading me.
He noticed how my mood shifted before I realized them myself, smiling whenever I rolled my eyes, letting me win whenever I argued, or pulling my hair when I got stubborn, pretending to be annoyed but agreeing anyway.
And somewhere along the way, I'd started craving more than just those tiny moments.
“What were you thinking?”
I snapped out of my thoughts, scrambling for an escape route. “Will the Ferris wheel be ready by tomorrow?”
“Nice try.” He didn’t fall for my distraction.
“You have to be—” A small kid, giggling like a sugar-loaded chipmunk, crashed straight into my butt and ran away. I stumbled forward, and Aeron’s hands found my waist, steadying me. The warmth of his palms sank straight through my shirt.
My lungs forgot their only job.
“Careful.”
“I’m f—”
The same kid—my butt could absolutely confirm the culprit—bumped me again, this time from the left, giggling wildly as she ran away. Aeron's hand tightened around my waist, pulling me even closer. One more hit-and-run, and I’d basically be wearing him as a sweater.
“I’m okay,” I managed, sounding exactly like someone who definitely wasn’t. “You..you can let go now.” The words were supposed to come out easy, but instead they came out breathless.
“What did you say?” His voice dipped lower, distracted enough that I wondered if he was paying attention to my words at all.
“You can let go now,” I repeated.
He nodded once, completely serious, but his fingers stayed exactly where they were, clearly having no intention of cooperating. One second ticked by. Two. Three. I started wondering if his brain even knew what his fingers were doing.
“Aeron.”
“Yes?”
“You’re still holding me.”
“Right.”
“Astid!”
A bubbly little voice startled me. I quickly stepped back, feeling Aeron’s hands slip away from my waist, and turned to find Kaia standing a few feet away, eyes wide with curiosity.
“Me and Poppy were wunning fast, and I bumped you bwak. Sowwy!” She shifted on her toes, smiling sheepishly.
So, this tiny, giggly tornado was the culprit. Her words were messy in that adorable five-year-old way, but I caught her meaning just fine. “Sorry accepted.” I smiled at her.
Kaia's grin widened, flashing tiny rabbit teeth. She tilted her head toward Aeron. “Are you pwaying a game?”
Aeron crouched down to Kaia’s level, gently ruffling her hair. “Yep, we're playing a game called Don’t Fall, but Astid’s losing pretty badly.” He dragged out my name, mimicking Kaia's adorable pronunciation perfectly.
Kaia giggled, her eyes sparkling as she glanced eagerly between us. “Can I pway too?”
Aeron's gaze drifted slowly back to mine, a teasing smile playing at the corner of his lips, daring me to say something.
I knelt down to Kaia’s level, holding Aeron’s gaze for an extra second, making sure he knew I wasn't backing down. “Actually, we're playing another game called Who Can Annoy Astrid More , and right now, Aewon is winning by a lot.”
Kaia bounced on her toes. “I wanna pway that!”
Aeron and I exchanged a glance, sharing the same silent thought: Kaia would jump at any game we made up.
“Where is your dad, Kaia?” She had been so eager to join the Maypole dance, but since it was limited to the seven-to-twelve-year-old kids, I'd put her in the parents-and-child dance, even though she wasn't quite old enough for that either. I couldn’t see her disappointed.
“Dad’s busy. He will come late. Gwandma’s busy too. She lost her gwasses. So, I came with Poppy’s mommy.”
“Gwasses?”
“Glasses,” Aeron translated.
“How did you even get that?”
“I speak fluent Kaia.”
I rolled my eyes. “Impressive.” I took Kaia’s hand. “Come on, let’s get you to the stage.”
The kids and parents crowded around the stage, the noise and excitement pulling me straight back to my childhood. Dad used to follow me to every school event.
Beside me, Kaia was complaining about her dad in that impossible-to-decipher language of hers, probably annoyed because he hadn't arrived yet. Aeron should've been here. Only he could properly translate Kaia's frustration.
Allen came at the absolute last second, as Lisa began ushering the kids onto the stage.
Kaia planted her hands firmly on her hips, and fixed him with a stern glare. “Wemembe the spin! You don’t do it cowectly. Spin, awms up, stop! Okay?”
Allen stood straighter, offering her a salute. “Yes, captain.”
She nodded and dashed off toward the stage.
“Thanks for putting her in the dance, Astrid.” Allen’s eyes fixed on his daughter with a proud smile as she bossily arranged the boy next to her into a straight line.
“No thanks necessary. I just couldn’t bear seeing her disappointed.”
Allen shook his head, laughing. “It’s not just that. Ever since she started practicing, her energy has been channeled into dance. My house will probably write you a thank-you note.”
This father-daughter, honestly.
Lisa was announcing for the parents to line up. Allen hurried to the stage.
The music started. The kids looked irresistibly cute—tiny feet tapping offbeat, little arms waving freely. Some hit the beat, and some missed by a mile. The parents joined their kids for the next song.
Kaia and Allen danced side by side, his large hands guiding her tiny ones, both of them laughing.
Suddenly, I was back in fifth grade, my feet glued in place because I'd forgotten the steps. Tears burned behind my eyes until Dad appeared. He ignored the teacher’s warnings, jumping onto that stage and taking my hand. “Come on, Astrid. This is your day.”
We were dancing, badly, offbeat, the kind of dancing that probably shouldn't happen in public, but I was laughing too hard to care. Soon other parents also joined their kids. Dad had always been good at turning my worst moments into my favorite ones.
My fingers automatically reached for my wrist, searching for the familiar comfort of Dad’s watch, but they touched only bare skin.
It was the one piece of him I always kept close, and now it was gone.
It had broken when a volunteer accidentally dropped a box on my wrist. When I got home and emptied my bag, the leather strap and glass pieces I'd collected had disappeared.
Tears blurred my vision. I turned and walked away—away from curious eyes, away from the noisy crowd. I didn’t stop until the voices faded behind me and I found myself alone, standing near the tree.
I pulled off my glasses, wiping tears away with the back of my sleeve, suddenly aware of footsteps crunching leaves behind me. They stopped just inches away—close, too close. My body stilled, a quiet, traitorous part of me recognizing him even before my mind caught up.
“Astrid.” My name was soft, gentle enough to crack something inside me. “Turn to me.”
I shook my head, blinking furiously at the ground to keep my tears contained. I wasn't ready to let anyone, especially him, see the mess I'd become.
When I still didn’t turn, Aeron stepped around to face me
I kept my eyes stubbornly glued to my shoes, silently begging him to turn around and walk away.
But he didn’t move. When I finally glanced up, just barely, his gaze was already waiting for me—soft, concerned.
Before I could look away again, he closed the space between us and pulled me in to his arms.
His arms wrapped securely around me, holding tightly, yet gently.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he whispered, carefully, like I might shatter if he spoke any louder. “Let it out. It’s just me.”
Something inside me loosened, cracked, and opened. Wide opened. I pressed my face harder into his shoulder. Tears spilled out like they’d been waiting for this moment. They soaked into his shirt, but he only held me tighter
“I’ve got you,” he murmured softly. “I’m here.”
And those words made me cry even harder.
For the first time, I let myself lean fully on someone, and it didn't scare me.