“You, my friend, are aclass act,” Shay says firmly. “You stood up for yourself without even raising your voice. That’s power.”
“I felt like an idiot.”
“You acted classy, a queen with class who rose above their pettiness. They’re just jealous.”
I bite my lip. “They said I don’t belong there.”
Shay doesn’t miss a beat. “They’re wrong. You belong there just as much as they do—if not more. You earned every second of that night, and don’t you let some petty, insecure nobodies try to rewrite your story.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I smile through them.
“Thanks, Shay.”
“Now wipe your eyes, go find your man, and remind those bitches why he marriedyou.”
I laugh. “Right.”
My phone buzzes. Finn.
Where are you?
I’m in the stairwell, near the ice sculpture.
A minute later, he appears, larger than life. I want to run to him and bury my head in his chiseled chest, but I can’t. I have to stand on my own two feet.
“You came,” I mutter.
“Of course I did. You’re my wife. What happened?” His eyes search mine for clues.
“They were mean. I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
“You’re here because you belong as much as anyone else. Don’t leta few Karens ruin your day. You can’t let them live rent-free in your head. You owned that room tonight. You, Kate Callahan.”
“I don’t feel like I belong. I mean.” I run my hands down the silken dress. “You bought me the dress, the jewelry, and the shoes. I shouldn’t have accepted. But for a minute, I wanted to belong. Is that bad?”
“Not at all. I’ve heard you sing. They can’t do that. I’ve seen how hard you work. There are nice women here—you’ll have to find them, and in time, you will. But if you let those shallow women run you off, you’ll never know if you can hold your own. And the Kate I know, the Kate I married, will shine in the face of adversity. The Kate I know owns the room, especially when she’s on stage.”
He pulls out his phone, and I hear my song. He shows me the screen. “That’s you. Look at how the audience looks at you, Kate. You, not the drummer, not the bass player, you.”
I want to cry because he’s pretty damn convincing. But more than that, he has my back.
I don’t know what to do now, because he makes a good case. So, I do the only thing I can. I lean in and kiss him. I kiss him like a drowning woman, and he’s my life raft.
Because in this moment? He is.
The kiss is warm and gentle, but he pulls me to him and takes control. I moan against him.
“Let’s get out of here,” he mutters.
20
FINN
WHAT HAPPINESS LOOKS LIKE
The “Buzzer-Beater Goal”—Scoring a goal just before the period ends—players laughing, high-fiving, and riding that rush of excitement.
“Hey,” I say, keeping my voice soft. I don’t hesitate to pull her into my arms, pressing my lips to her hair. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” If I know Kate, she made her point. She’s still shaken but fighting like hell not to let it show.
