21. Killian #3
She pauses, her beautiful green eyes glistening as her gaze finds mine.
“I tell you my story, but tonight isn’t about me,” Isla continues, her voice a little stronger now.
“It’s about the thousands of other patients who are lying in hospital beds right now, wondering if they’ll ever walk again.
Wondering if they’ll ever feel whole again.
” She grips the edges of the podium. “The Step Forward Foundation doesn’t just provide physical therapy, it provides hope.
It provides community. It provides the knowledge that you’re not alone in your darkest moments. ”
I blink rapidly, trying to keep my own emotions in check because if there’s one thing Isla has done for me, unequivocally, it’s reminding me that I’m not alone.
I’ve never been so damn proud of anyone in my entire life.
My chest feels like it might burst open with the force of what I’m feeling for her right now.
“I stand before you tonight not as someone who has conquered her trauma,” Isla says, her voice filling the entire room.
“But as someone who is still learning how to carry it. Someone who still grieves for what I lost that day. Someone who still feels broken in my darkest days. So, when I tell you that your support matters,” she continues, a slight shake in her voice, “I’m not just giving you a line from a fundraising brochure.
I’m telling you that your donations literally put people like me back on their feet.
It gives people like me a chance to live again. ”
She gestures to herself, standing tall despite the slight tremor in her frame. “I’m standing here tonight because of organizations like this one. Because of people who believed in me when I couldn’t believe in myself.”
“Tonight, I’m asking you to help us continue that work,” she declares. “To help more people take those first steps toward recovery. To give more people the chance to find their way back to themselves.”
She smiles, and it’s like watching the sun break through clouds after a storm. “Thank you for listening to my story. Thank you for being here. And thank you for helping us step forward, together.”
The room erupts in applause, people rising to their feet in a standing ovation. I’m on my feet too, clapping so hard my palms sting but I barely notice. I feel tears welling in my eyes, but I blink them away, not wanting to miss a single moment of Isla’s triumph.
She did it.
She fucking did it.
People are wiping tears from their faces, reaching for their phones to make donations, their expressions transformed by Isla’s unrestrained honesty.
I watch her stand at that podium, her chin held high despite the tears streaming down her face, and I know with absolute certainty that I am completely, irrevocably in love with her.
She’s radiant. Not just beautiful—though she’s devastatingly so in that teal dress—but luminous, like something holy and untouchable.
The real, terrifying, all-consuming kind of love that makes my hands shake and my throat tighten.
Marcus Donovan leans toward me, his voice low. “That was remarkable. We’re doubling our donation.”
I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat, as I track Isla making her way down from the podium, her legs trembling slightly, accepting hugs and handshakes from well-wishers.
Eleanor Donovan appears at my elbow, her face bright with tears. “Your girl is extraordinary, Killian.”
“She is,” I manage, my voice rough. “She really is.”
I make my way toward Isla as the crowd parts for her, people reaching out to touch her arm, offering words of encouragement. She handles it all with poise and grace and I am in awe of her.
When she finally reaches me, I pull her into my arms, holding her close as the crowd continues to applaud. Her body trembles against mine. “You did it!” I smile against her ear, my voice thick with emotion. “You were incredible.”
For a moment, the whole room falls away as I hold her in my arms. “I was so scared, Kill.”
“I know, babe,” I say, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “But you were fucking perfect up there.” I pull back just enough to cradle her face in my hands. “And I’ve never been prouder of anyone in my entire life.”
People begin to approach us, offering congratulations and words of praise.
I keep my arm firmly around her waist, anchoring her to me as she graciously accepts their admiration.
Each person who stops to speak with her leaves more moved than before, many reaching for their phones to make additional donations.
The foundation’s director, a woman named Catherine, approaches with tears streaming down her face. “That was the most powerful speech we’ve ever had,” she tells Isla, gripping her hands. “We’ve already received double our typical donations, and the night’s not even over.”
Isla’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”
“Really,” Catherine confirms, beaming. “Your honesty has inspired people to give more than they ever have before.”
I feel Isla sag slightly against me, relief and a bit of exhaustion overcoming her now that the adrenaline is wearing off.
As we make our way back to our seats, people continue to approach.
I keep Isla close, my hand never leaving the small of her back, creating a protective barrier between her and the crowd that wants a piece of her.
She turns to me when we reach our table, a drink finally in hand and her emerald eyes still glistening with emotion. “Thank you for being here with me, Killian. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
I want to tell her that I’ll always be here for her, that the thought of not being by her side makes me literally ill. But the words stick in my throat, too heavy with meaning. Instead, I press a kiss to her lips and then lean my forehead against hers. “Always, Coach.”
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of conversations and congratulations.
I watch Isla transform from the vulnerable woman who stood at the podium into a confident advocate, charming everyone she meets with her genuine warmth and her bright personality.
And when the night is over, I’m all too happy to walk out with her on my arm, help her into my SUV, and drive us back to my place.
Tonight is the night.
This is it.
I have to tell her how I feel.
I have to tell her I’m in love with her.
And that nothing about the way I feel about her is fake.