Chapter Thirty
Dani
“YOU GOTTA STOP PACING, BABY. EVERYTHING IS GONNA be fine.” Micah loops his arms around my waist to stop me from wearing down the floors.
The night of the gala is finally here. Everything we’ve been working toward for months all comes down to this one night, and the nerves are still getting the best of me.
“I know, I just want everything to be perfect.”
“We put our all into this, so it’s going to be perfect. Tanya would be thrilled.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” I take a few steadying breaths to bring myself back to center.
Dr. Goode and I have worked through a few new coping mechanisms to get me through panic attacks.
I’m learning that there is no one-trick pony that works every single time, so sometimes I have to adjust, but I’m getting better at doing just that.
When the room stops spinning, I can see Micah clearly. He looks too sexy in the suit Daria made for him. “Damn, you look good. Did I say that already?”
“Once or twice. Maybe you could show me better than you could tell me?”
I bite my bottom lip, looking over to the locked door of our dressing room. “I definitely could.” I push the jacket of his suit off his shoulders. “This jacket looks fantastic on you.” But right now, I think it looks better on the floor.
“Thank you.”
I get down on my knees and free his dick from his pants. “These pants are the perfect fit for you.”
He hisses when I take him in my hands, tugging from base to tip. “Shit. I’m glad you like them.”
“I really do. You know what else I like?”
“What’s that?”
“The taste of you.”
He looks down at me with hooded eyes. “Get a taste, then.”
I take him in my mouth, using my hands for what doesn’t fit. When he hits the back of my throat, I gag around him and then take some more.
“Fuck, Dani.”
I hum with content at his loss of control. It does it for me every time.
He yanks me to a standing position and turns me around to face the vanity mirror in the room. He makes eye contact with my reflection as he pulls my hair to gain more access to my neck. “How was your taste?”
I lick my lips and stick out my tongue. “Delicious.”
His head falls to my shoulder, planting a small kiss there. “Spread your legs for me, Storm.”
I do as he asks, enjoying the view of him flipping the train of my dress up to expose my ass. He grabs a fistful, rubbing his dick between the globes before sliding his fingers around to my clit.
His thumb rubs circles onto my clit while three of his fingers pump inside of me. I arch my back, wanting to feel more of him.
“More,” I demand.
I reach back for his dick, but he swats my hand away. “You know the rules, Storm. You come, then we come.”
He pumps his fingers harder, and I bite down on my lip. “Shit, right there. I’m almost there.”
When his fingers send me over the edge, I hear the telltale signs of a condom wrapper before I feel him stretch me wider. “Does my greedy girl wanna come again before she has to go on stage?”
“Yesss,” I sing. So desperately.
He slams into me, the legs of the mirror rattling loudly.
I want to scream, but I don’t want anyone coming back here to interrupt us. I slam my eyes shut to keep the sounds down.
“Want some help with that?” Micah’s voice lures my eyelids to open.
I look at his reflection, cautiously nodding.
He holds up his finger, the one coated in my release. “Bite down.”
Without a second thought, I grab his finger and suck it into my mouth. I swirl my tongue around his finger, making him melt into me. Releasing his finger with a pop, I say, “Come with me.”
“Fuck,” he groans.
“Now, Micah,” I command.
My release hits me like a freight train and he follows right behind me.
We’ve just finished making ourselves presentable again when a knock at the door makes us jump.
“Come in,” I call out.
Daria enters, stunning in a red gown that has her signature style. “Hello, my loves.” She greets us both with a hug and a kiss.
“Daria! So glad you made it, you look amazing,” I say.
“Thank you, thank you. My parents send their love.”
“How are they doing?” both Micah and I ask.
“Good. My mom’s non-lucid days are becoming more frequent, but we’re managing. Anyway, I didn’t come back here to stir that up. I wanted to make sure you got your letters.”
Micah and I look at each other. “Our letters?”
She beams with pride. “I knew I sewed them in there too well. Come, come.” She pulls a small pair of scissors from the top of her dress and ushers me over.
She silently gets to work cutting a tiny incision into my dress, and when she does, she pulls out a small folded-up note. Tanya’s handwriting is on the front.
“What is going on?” I ask.
She ushers Micah over and starts cutting into his suit as well. She pulls out a note with the same writing on it and hands it to him.
“Tanya asked me to sew these into your garments and not say anything until the day you wore them.”
That woman really thought of everything.
“I will leave you to it. Whatever these notes say is bound to make me cry and I don’t wanna have to fix my makeup.” She blows us a kiss and a wave as she backs out of the room.
So, this is it. After this, we won’t have any more letters coming from Tanya. I’ve come to rely on these letters as confirmation that she’s still looking out for me. Every time I read one, I swear I can hear her voice so clearly. I never want to forget what it sounded like.
The thought of forgetting any detail of her brings tears to my eyes. I guess it’s just fuck my makeup then. I hold my letter out to Micah. “You read mine, I’ll read yours?”
“Deal.”
We switch letters and he starts reading immediately.
My dearest Dani Girl,
I can’t leave this earth without telling you how special you are. You have been through a lot and you’re still standing. You are incredibly resilient, but please hear me when I say this.
You don’t have to be.
You don’t always have to be so strong.
This country was built off of our strength. Sometimes, we need to tell them to hold their own damn heads up.
We deserve rest.
Rest, Dani Girl.
Let it go.
Love you deeply,
Tanya
P.S. Remind Victor to take a damn vacation. He needs it.
I snicker at the line about Victor. The man definitely seems like the type to have to be forced to take time off.
And look at me—caring about that. I don’t know when Victor changed from a man I barely tolerated to one I admire and respect, but I know Tanya is probably moved to tears up there knowing she brought more than just Micah and me together.
Unfolding Micah’s letter, I take a deep breath before starting.
My dearest Micah-Angelo,
I see so much of myself in you.
Your life has been plagued with so much loss that you cling to everyone you have left with all your might.
I understand it.
But that loss has also made you question why you were spared.
It’s because you were destined to be exactly where you are now.
Do not let life pass you by, or else we have all died in vain.
Live, Micah. And enjoy doing it.
Love you deeply,
Tanya
P.S. Remind Victor to take a damn vacation. He needs it.
At this point, I’m too much of a blubbering mess to even form words. Micah tries to wrap me in his arms, but I back away. “No, I don’t wanna get makeup on you.”
He scowls. “You can always leave your mark on me, Dani. Now, come here.”
This time I give in, and we fall into each other.
“Also, clearly we have to book a vacation for Victor,” I say once we break apart.
“Clearly.”
When we walk into the banquet hall, we’re greeted by Bailey, Nisha, Nelle, Evie, Rome, Christian, and Jalen. No sign of Arnold or Amerie. I’m hurt but not surprised by that, and I refuse to spend even a modicum of tonight focused on their absence.
The women look incredible in their gowns: Nelle in emerald green, Evie in periwinkle, Bailey in light pink, and Nisha in orange.
Everyone compliments us on the turnout of the event before taking their seats.
“You ready?” Micah asks, handing me a mic.
I step onto the stage and those nerves I was feeling moments ago dissipate the moment I look into the crowd of smiling faces.
This is a beautiful event, and Tanya would be proud of what we put together. She would be over the moon to see all the people she valued in life gathered in one room. But then I look back to Micah and I think this is what she would be most proud of, us finding each other again.
“Hi, everyone,” I greet the audience once the applause has quieted down. “Thank you for being here. Everyone here knew Tanya, and so I’m sure it’s no surprise to you that this event is reminiscent of a lavish wedding, rather than a homegoing.”
Another round of applause and laughter.
“Tanya was … she was special. She was the type of person who changed your life from the moment she entered it. She was always there when you needed her, and even when you didn’t.”
The audience’s laughter helps me keep back the tears.
“I had planned to come up here and make this entire speech about how magnanimous she was, but she once told me not to start listing off all her accomplishments or I’d be there all day.
I think what she would really like for me to do is stand up here and share with you all a few words from someone she loved who didn’t get to share these words himself. ”
I flip over my speech card and take a deep breath. “This is a poem by Tanya’s late brother, Andrew. It’s called ‘Gone Are the Days.’ I hope you enjoy.
Gone are the days of innocence.
Gone are the days of blissful ignorance.
Gone are the days of wonder and adventure.
Time strips them away without warning or pretense.
It wraps itself around you and molds you into who the world needs you to be.
Time takes, yet it also gives.
It gives experience.
It gives wisdom and freedom.
It gives forgiveness.
Time gave me you.
And so how can something that gives me someone so treasured be bad?
Gone are the days of storm clouds, for you’ve shone your ray of light onto me.
Gone are the days of despair, for you’ve given me joy.