Page 179 of Sour Notes

She’s here.

My angel is actually here.

With blood rushing in my ears, I jump off the stage and run the distance toward her the second my feet hit the floor. When I’m within touching distance, inhaling the sweet floral scent I’ve been deprived of for days, the relief that floods me knocks me on my ass. I sink to my knees, burying my face in her legs.

Her trembling hand threads through my hair and her touch sends shivers down my spine.

Swallowing past the swell of emotion clogging my throat, I squeeze her tighter, petrified she’s going to disappear in a puff of smoke.

She sinks to the floor in front of me, tear-filled eyes meeting mine as she cups my jaw and tilts my face to hers.

“Swayze, I’m so sorry for what I said to you. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it. I lied at the wedding. The night in the pool, it meant something to me too. It meant everything to me. I am yours… if you’ll still have me.”

Her gaze falls from mine to study the floor.

I can’t have that.

I need to see her.

“Mia, look at me.”

Her glassy eyes meet mine, a single tear trailing down her cheek. I swipe it away, cupping her face with both hands, still not entirely convinced my mind isn’t fucking with me.

We’re kneeling on the floor in this crowded ballroom but we could be anywhere right now.

The only thing I hear are her soft, shuddering breaths.

The only thing I see are the crystal tears trapped in her inky black lashes while her eyes plead with mine.

Her words play on a loop in my mind, I am yours… if you’ll still have me.

This woman is all I’ve ever wanted, no, needed, but if she backtracks again, there’s no world where I’ll survive it. This last week without her has been miserable.

Hell, even the simple act of breathing fucking hurt.

I lean my forehead to hers and hold it there.

“Do you mean that, Angel? You have to be sure because I can’t pretend with you anymore.”

She nods, pulling back to take her purse from Haven.

“Mia, you’re not gonna wake up tomorrow and regret it? You won’t pull away again? Promise me you've thought about this?”

“I promise you, Swayze.”

She leans forward, brushing her lips to mine while she presses something into my hand. I look down and find a familiar looking yellow Post-it pad there.

What the⁠—

She nods for me to flip it over and there in purple ink is my girl's pretty cursive writing.

I’m sure.

She pulls off the sheet, exposing a second note.

I’ve got you.

Peeling off that note, there’s another.