People applauded, awkwardly at first, then more steadily, a step, a pause, a laugh between us. The room blurred. I felt only his hand in mine, the weight of his trust.
My mother was standing on the edge, openly crying.
Let them watch.
When the song ended, Rowan collapsed into his chair, breathless but smiling.
"Was it good enough?" he whispered, his voice raw.
I knelt down beside him. "That was all."
"I was wrong," she said in a low voice. "And I almost made you doubt something real." Her voice broke. "I'm so sorry, Mikayla."
He nodded, and I saw relief on his face.
Later, after everyone had left, Rowan and I sat on our bed, shoes on, wedding clothes wrinkled.
"That was all."
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