But my eyes were caught by another bouquet, smaller this time, yet exquisite—a riot of blue, violet, lilac, mauve, and maroon, strange yet beautiful in their combination. I reached for it carefully, noticing a card tucked neatly among the stems.
The handwriting was delicate, flowing, almost like starlight had shaped the letters.
"Tonight, you were the Polaris in your own galaxy—guiding everyone around you with light only you could shine. Every leap, every turn, every breath was a starburst of your heart. Remember this: even in darkness, your brilliance cannot be dimmed. Shine on, my Celestia."
I froze, a gasp escaping my lips.Liam?
The name seemed to float in the air, tiny and bright as the constellations he always referenced. The memory of his humor, his quiet encouragements, the way he always noticed the little celestial patterns in the world—everything came rushing back. My fingers traced the petals gently, as if touching them might let me reach across the cosmos to him.
I heard the door click open behind me and turned to see my dad standing there, his familiar warmth filling the room. "Hey, beautiful," he said softly, his eyes shining. "You were... amazing."
"Thanks, Dad," I murmured, my voice still thick from the performance. Then I hesitated. "Uh... was Liam with you?"
He shook his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Moonboy? I'm not sure. I didn't see him. But he knows when and where you'd be. He left something for you."
My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for the small envelope in his hand. I opened it and unfolded the note inside. The words made my chest tighten and my eyes well:
"We all carry stardust in our veins, fragments of the cosmos that have drifted through space for eons before finding their way into our bodies. The probability that I would enter a dance studio, for reasons of love and memory, and meet you—just passing through, visiting—was infinitesimally small. And yet, here we are. Perhaps once upon a time, we were stardust floating across the universe, destined to meet again, this time in human shape."
I swallowed hard, a tear tracing the curve of my cheek. The note continued, gentle and hopeful:
"By the way... there's a meteor shower tomorrow around eight. I don't want to pressure you—you may come, you may not. I'll wait a lifetime, a light-year if I must, to catch a glimpse of your eyes under the falling stars."
I looked up at my dad, who simply nodded, giving me space to feel it all. I tucked the note close to my heart, imagining the streaks of light across the night sky and the improbable magic of the universe that had, somehow, brought me here.
*******
I trudged back to January's apartment, utterly spent. My body ached, my muscles still humming from the performance, and my mind refused to engage with anything beyond sleep. The girls were still buzzing downstairs, laughing over breakfast and gossip, but I couldn't join them. I barely managed a tired wave before retreating to my room, curling up under the soft blankets, and letting the exhaustion pull me under.
The next day, I woke around midday. Sunlight spilled lazily through the curtains, warm and golden. On my dresser, I found a basket of care items: creams for tired feet, bath bombs, scented candles, and little pampering treats—Aaron had sent it. He always did this for me whenever I had a casting or performance, little reminders that he cared.
I picked up my phone, thumb hovering over the text app to thank him, when it rang. His name lit up the screen.
"Hey, sunshine," he said, his voice soft, familiar, like a gentle wind threading through my nerves.
"Hello, Aaron... thank you for the basket. You didn't have to," I said.
A brief silence fell, then his voice softened, hesitant. "I... I'm actually in front of the house. Do you have five minutes?"
"Aaron..." I started, fatigue and apprehension warring in my chest.
"Please. Just five minutes," he urged. There was a vulnerability in his tone I hadn't heard in a long time.
I sighed, standing, and made my way downstairs. I opened the door to find him standing there, sunflowers in hand, the sunlight catching in his hair. "Hi," he said simply. He moved forward for a hug, and I stiffened, shaking my head.
He paused awkwardly, "You were breathtaking last night," he began, his voice thick with emotion, almost breaking on the words. "Watching you dance... I couldn't stop thinking about how incredible you are, not just as a dancer, but as you. The way you moved, every lift, every turn, every breath—it reminded me of everything I had, everything I lost. I kept seeing the fire in your eyes, the strength in your body, and I was haunted by the memory of holding it all in my hands and letting it slip away."
He stepped closer, his eyes searching mine, vulnerable and raw. "Every night, June, I think about you. Every moment I've loved you, every foolish mistake, every time I hurt you, every time I let my fear or selfishness or pride get in the way? I've regretted it all. I've replayed it in my mind, wondering if I could have been better, if I could have held on tighter, if I could have deserved you the way you deserve to be loved."
His hand hovered for a moment, then he took mine gently, pressing it to his chest. "I love you with everything I am, June. All of me—my mistakes, my weaknesses, my stubbornness—I lay it before you now. I know I betrayed your trust. I know I caused you pain. I know that some of that pain is mine to carry forever. But I am here, standing before you, hoping, begging... just for one more chance. One chance to prove that my love never wavered, that I have learned, that I can be better—for you, for us. I want to hold you the way you've always deserved, to love you the way you deserve to be loved, to make every day of your life brighter because you are in it."
He drew a slow, steady breath, his forehead almost touching mine. "I'm not asking for forever tonight, June. I'm asking for a moment. A chance to show you that everything I lost when I let you go, I have been chasing ever since, and if you let me, if you even just allow me this one chance, I will spend the rest of my life proving that you are my everything. You always have been, and you always will be."
He pressed a soft, reverent kiss to the back of my hand, letting the words hang in the air, heavy with truth and longing.
"I will be waiting for you tonight," he said, his voice low, steady, trembling with sincerity. "At the restaurant where we had our first date... almost seven years ago. I'll be there. I'll wait. No matter how long it takes, I'll wait."
He paused, as if weighing every word, letting the gravity of his next sentence settle between us. "Please... forgive me, June. Forgive me for everything I've done to you, to us. Let me fight for you. Let me show you that I'm not the man who failed you, that I am still the man who has loved you with everything I have, who has never stopped loving you. I hurt you, yes, but my heart...it has always been yours. And I will spend the rest of my life making it right, proving that love, true love, can endure even the mistakes, the regrets, the pain."
