Page 51 of Through the Storm

Something about the way she says it, so sure and automatic, hits me harder than it should.

Before I can overthink it, I nod toward the dance floor. “Good. Come on. Dance with me.”

“I don’t really…”

I take her hand anyway.

She lets me.

She always does.

The music is loud and bass-heavy, nothing like the playlists we used to blast in my car with the windows down. But it doesn’t matter. She moves easily with me, laughing when I spin her without warning, her hand warm in mine.

“You always do that,” she says.

“Do what?”

“Decide things for both of us.”

I grin. “You’ve never stopped me.”

And that’s when it hits me, how natural this feels. How easy. Like this version of us has always existed, just waiting for the timing to catch up.

Wyatt appears at the edge of the dance floor, eyebrows lifting, his expression sharp and knowing. Like he figured it out three minutes ago and is waiting for me to catch up.

I look away.

Katy doesn’t notice.

“Drink?” I ask. She nods and I grab her hand in mine.

I slide a drink toward her a minute later, watching the way she takes the first sip like it matters.

“This is kind of wild,” I say. “Seeing you like this.”

“Like what?”

“All grown up,” I admit. “You look… really good, Katy.”

Her cheeks warm.

So do mine.

“Thanks,” her voice quiet, almost shy. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

That does it. I beam. Full idiot grin.

We talk. About everything. About nothing. About people we still know and the ones we’ve lost track of. About games and classes and how life has a way of pulling you somewhere new when you’re not paying attention.

At one point, I lean in and say, softer, “I’m really glad I ran into you tonight.”

She looks up at me, eyes bright. “Me too.”

And that’s when I realize this isn’t harmless.

Something settles in my chest, not because this feels safe, but because it feels inevitable.

Like this moment isn’t a coincidence at all.