Chapter 183: The Gala II: Hannah
It was so nice to see everyone having a good time, letting loose, and having fun. Things had been so heavy as of late, I thought it was needed for everyone there to let loose.
Especially with Kristen there! We really hadn’t seen her in so long that it felt a bit awkward at first, but at that point in the night, she was fitting right in with the crowd.
The auction was earning so much money that it was hard to keep up. I would have to count all the checks tomorrow to get a final number, but I knew it was more than I had ever anticipated.
I felt a bit bad for having made the assumption, but I thought each art piece would only make a few thousand at the highest, and in the hundreds on average. The guests seemed to be having a great time by outbidding one another. I swore I had caught some bidding without ever looking over to the art. It was almost like gambling, it seemed... seeing how far you would have the drive the bet before withdrawing and leaving the other guy who was playing, with the bill.
The band started playing more upbeat music and people began to leave their seats and go over to an open part of the room to dance. By the time they were starting their third song, a good portion of the room had moved to dance.
I looked over at Roman. He gave me a big grin and extended a hand.
"Care to dance?" he asked.
While I wasn’t much of a dancer, who was I to say no to a handsome face like that?
With a little nod, we moved together to the dance floor. He brought me in by the waist and held my hand. Thankfully, it wasn’t like club or rave music. Instead, it was more like swing.
We danced in our simple little way, the smiles never lifting from our face. Some of the other couples had clearly taken classes or at least danced far more often than us, but I didn’t mind. I just wanted to have fun with my husband and the little family we had built for ourselves. I didn’t care about appearances or worry even a little about embarrassing myself.
That surprised me to even hear in my own head. I had always been hyper-aware of what I looked like and how other people may have been perceiving me. And yet, it was far from my mind. So much so that I just genuinely didn’t care.
That was a sort of a liberating thought, one that hoped wasn’t just a fleeting one, as confidence could be from time to time. I held onto it, embraced it, and hoped that it stuck around.
We danced for a couple of songs before finally moving away to go get some drinks.
I took a sip of whatever Roman handed me without really looking at it, and was absolutely delighted when it turned out to be the best mojito to ever have passed my lips. It was the perfect level of sweetness, and I could taste that they had used fresh limes. Oh, it was a dangerously delicious cocktail... I had to keep myself from downing it all in just a few gulps.
"What do you think, Mrs. Thaddeus?" he asked as he pulled me into his hip. "What do you rate the night?"
I raised a finger to my lips and tapped them as if in thought. "So far? A ten out of ten."
"Oh, only so far, hm?" Roman asked with a teasing tone.
I sighed and smiled. "Knowing our luck, anything can happen to send it off rails."
He grabbed my shoulders and made me look him in the eye. "Let’s be positive and not think like that. Tonight is a ten out of ten."
As much as I tried to fight it, Roman got me to smile.
Nodding at him, I conceded. "Okay, you win. Tonight is a ten out of ten."
"No stipulations?" he asked, as though to make sure I wasn’t going to take it back.
"No stipulations," I assured him.
He brought me in for a kiss, and we shared a loving glance.
It was perfect moments like that I found myself realizing just how beautiful mine and Roman’s life would soon be. The world was within our clutches, we just had some kinks to iron out first. They were serious, dangerous kinks, but I wouldn’t even allow my mind to identify what they were.
That night was for us, nothing else. Not even for the most fleeting of thoughts.
Once our little moment was over, we started to head back to the table when he stopped me. "Want to take your turn on the catwalk?" he asked.
"I think that’s more a runway than a catwalk, isn’t it?" I asked in a mumble, my way of delaying my answer.
"There isn’t really a difference, is there?" he asked, arching a brow.
"I think catwalks are elevated," I stated, not really even having an idea and just taking a shot in the dark.
"Well, do you want to go on the runway?" he asked with a chuckle.
I looked over at it, watching as some of the other guests made their way down. It seemed like they were having a good time with, their partners standing to the side, cheering them on and taking pictures on their phones.
I just wasn’t sure I wanted to. It wasn’t because of the eyes on me, but because a selfish part of my brain longed to keep the dress. I knew that the dress, or the money from selling the dress, would be put to good use. I knew that, but I just didn’t want to part with it. It was so special and gorgeous and felt as though it was made just for me.
However, I thought back to Milan and how she had donated the dresses for the cause. It would only be right to donate the dress as well. I knew I had to then.
Giving Roman a shy little smile, I downed the rest of my mojito and handed him the glass. Taking a deep breath, I told myself to throw caution to the wind and just have a good time with it.
I squared my shoulders and did my best to swing my hips in the way I had seen on television. It felt a little silly, but I was trying to do my part in making the evening fun. Why should I awkwardly shuffle down the runway? I needed to feel confident. I was safe, surrounded by my loved ones, lovely members of the community, art, and fun.
When I reached the end, the photographer snapped a picture and handed it to me when it printed. I stepped to the side with Roman, eyes on the film as it blotched into existence. When it finally came into full view, I was stunned at my own image. The guy really was good. Even with something as simple as a polaroid, I looked like a true model, the shadows of my cheeks and jaw giving me a more angled appearance than I really thought myself to have. He captured me mid stride as well, my hips jutted out in a sort of swing, giving my posture a seductive aura.
"You look stunning," Roman breathed.
"You think so?" I blushed.
"Absolutely," he nodded. Pulling out his phone, he snapped a picture of it with his phone before we walked over to the table of polaroids. Using a marker, I wrote down my dress size, the maker of the dress, and then needed to come up with a nickname for the dress so the bids could be indicated.
The first thing to come to mind was Joan of Arc. Maybe it was provocative, but it’s what I thought of when I saw that dress. So, I scribbled it down and studied the picture for another moment before turning back to Roman.
He smiled down at me and kissed the top of my head.
"Care for another dance, Mrs. Thaddeus?" he inquired.
I grinned ear to ear and nodded at him. I loved when he called me that, knowing that he was feeling sentimental when he did. I loved him so much that it was overwhelming at times.
Moving together, we once again went back to the dance floor and that time, shared a slow dance. My arms were wrapped around his shoulders, and his hands were on my waist. The soft glow of the ambient lighting reflected in the blues of his eyes and I was completely lost in them.
Even though we were in a bustling, packed ballroom, there was only the two of us in that moment. I don’t think that I would have changed it for the world. Everything could be going wrong around us, but we could escape with one another, comforted and moved by the absolutely unconditional love that we had for another.
I couldn’t have been luckier.
Just over Roman’s shoulder, I saw something.
I narrowed my eyes and blinked. Who was that?
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