Hazel’s POV
“Dance with me,” Julian said, extending his hand toward me on the small dance floor set up beneath the garden’s open sky, string lights glowing gently against the darkening evening.
“I don’t dance the way I used to,” I reminded him, though I was already reaching for his hand.
“I don’t want you to dance the way you used to,” Julian said. “I want to dance with you exactly as you are right now.”
He pulled me close, careful and deliberate, adjusting his steps to match the particular rhythm my body could offer now, no longer the effortless, technical precision of my professional years but something slower, something equally beautiful in its own deliberate way.
Around us, our small gathering of guests swayed to the music, Adrian dancing with one of the wheelchair using students
