Annie

The lights were turned down just enough in my uncle’s penthouse, the hum of conversation hanging in the air of the room, punctuated by the occasional laughter.

Uncle John had decided to throw the cocktail party the minute I received my acceptance letter to Juilliard, and immediately following, Susan had thrown herself into planning.

I barely knew anyone on the guest list, but the invitation had also been extended to my friends at Wasted Words. They’d all shown up. Tyler and Cam stood near Rose and her boyfriend, Patrick. And Ruby, Harrison, Beau, Jett, and a few others were clustered near the windows overlooking Central Park.

It was overwhelming and humbling to have so many people had there to celebrate me, offering their congratulations and well wishes. Even Fanny had offered words of kindness, though nothing about her tone could have been considered warmhearted or affectionate.

My eyes wandered to Elle where she stood across from Ward, just outside of the crowd. The air between them was charged, but their faces betrayed little—until he said something that sent a flash of emotion through her, gone as soon as it had appeared.

She spoke again and walked away, leaving him watching after her.

I moved in her direction, reaching for her hand the moment I was able to. “Are you all right?”

She offered a smile that would have fooled anyone but me. “I’m fine.”

Fine—the greatest lie ever told.

Before I could press her for more, Susan appeared at my elbow.

“Oh, Annie.” She beamed, pulling me in for a hug. “I am just so proud of you. I hate that word, the implication that I did anything to earn the right to feel pride for your achievement, but it’s the best I can do. I’m so happy for you, I could just fly away.”

I leaned into her, breathed her in, letting the peace I’d found in my life settle into my heart. “Thank you, Susan.”

She squeezed once and let me go, her eyes teeming with tears. “You’re so very welcome. Are you girls having fun?”

“It’s been incredible,” I said with a smile I felt in my bones. “The food, the company—all of it. I can’t thank you enough for putting this together for me.”

“Well, we had to celebrate. Everyone wanted to come and wish you well.” She leaned in, glancing around. “Even your grandparents.”

A little shock shot down my back, and Elle and I exchanged a look.

“They didn’t,” I said.

“They did, but John refused. This isn’t the time or place. I don’t know when there ever will be a time or place.”

Elle’s face held worry. “I think we’re going to have to deal with them at some point.”

The three of us glanced at Mama, who was laughing at something Meg had said.

“But how?” I asked, knowing there was no answer.

Movement caught my eye, and I looked toward the bar to find my uncle leaning in to speak to Greg. With a nod, Greg picked up a flute of champagne and turned to meet my eyes, smiling.

That smile lit me up like a campfire, warm and crackling and comforting.

Uncle John picked up a champagne flute of his own and pinged the glass to get everyone’s attention.

When Greg reached me, he pressed a kiss to my flaming cheek, placing the champagne in my hand just as John began to speak.

“There are few things in this world so uplifting as art. Music, in particular, has been a joy of mine, even back to the days when my sister, Emily, and I made our loved ones suffer concerts wherein we butchered such greats as Joni Mitchell and Bob Dylan.”

A chuckle rolled through the room.

“But Annie possesses a talent for music that her mother and I never did. And after hearing her play, as we did earlier tonight, I think we can all understand why Juilliard would have been mad not to want her.”

A few people called, Hear, hear!

“And so, tonight, we celebrate Annie. Tonight, we wish her luck, though her talent stands on its own. We drink to her success, knowing it is at her fingertips. We raise our glasses and congratulate her with all of our encouragement behind her.” He raised his glass and met my eyes. “Here’s to you, Annie, and to the joy your music brings to the world. May it bring you the happiness that you bring to each and every one of us.”

The sting of my nose and the tears in my eyes accompanied my smile as we all raised our glasses, and the room turned to me with cheers on their lips to precede the champagne.

Greg stayed by my side as a line of people made their way over to shake my hand and speak with me. And when the crowd ebbed, he took my hand and stole me away, pulling me into the music room.

The lights had been dimmed, the noise of the party far away. The moment we were in the room, he pulled me into him for a kiss.

His lips transcribed the words of his heart, telling me how much he loved me and how proud he was of my success, of my future. And I told him without speaking, through my own lips and the tips of my fingers on his face, that I wanted nothing more in the world than him.

When he broke away, I was breathless and smiling, caught happily in his arms.

He smiled back. “How do you feel?”

I didn’t even have to consider my answer. “Like I could do anything. Like all possibilities are mine for the taking. Like my whole future is laid out in front of me, and I’m about to step into it.”

“You can, and you will.”

“And I’ll step into it with you.”

He looked into my eyes, his smile shifting, coloring his face with adoration and reverence. “I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me, as long as you love me.”

“Forever, then?” I asked quietly.

He pulled me closer. “If I’m lucky.”

“Oh,” I said with a smile, “luck has nothing to do with it.”

And the dizzying depth of his kiss served to secure his everlasting place at the very top of my list.