Page 28

My eyebrows rose, and my expression became teasing. “So you’re saying I’m heavy.” I flushed, surprised by my own courage.
“I didn’t, and I won’t. I learned a lesson or two about the traps men can walk into in a marriage by watching my parents. To some questions, there are only wrong answers.”
The song ended, and Danilo took over from Samuel before I could say anything. I had to admit I missed being in Samuel’s arms, even if his touch was still foreign. After the dance with my brother, he brought me back to my wheelchair. I wished I could keep dancing. It always made me happy. Maybe one day I would dance as a hobby again.
Samuel appeared at the table, dropping his sister Sofia off. She and Danilo took off for another dance, and I watched them with longing.
Samuel cleared his throat, drawing my gaze up to his face.
He held out his hand. “Would you give me the honor of another dance?”
I bit my lip, nervously glancing around as I felt the gazes of the people at the surrounding tables on us. One dance had been expected, but this definitely caught the attention of several people.
I put my hand in Samuel’s, then whispered, “I’d like to dance in my wheelchair.”
Samuel nodded slowly, but I could see the questions in his expression. I too wasn’t sure how slow dancing with someone would work. He led me toward the dance floor. We stayed at the edge so I wouldn’t roll over any feet. I had never tried a waltz since my accident. Samuel’s cool and resolute expression gave me confidence, so I extended my arms so he could clasp my hands. “Let me know if I do it wrong.”
I gave him a nervous smile. “I wouldn’t know. It’s the first time I’ve done a waltz like this.”
He nodded again, appearing even more determined. He pushed me back, then pulled me closer again, back and forth, back and forth, until I felt confident to release one of his hands and do a twirl. I giggled when I managed to avoid rolling over his feet. I had to pay for my overconfidence a moment later—or, rather, Samuel had to pay for it—as I rolled over his toes during another twirl.
“I’m sorry!” I exclaimed at the brief flash of discomfort on his face.
“I’m used to living on the edge,” he said in such a humorless tone that I couldn’t stop a flood of giggles from bursting out.
Samuel’s mouth briefly twitched into a smile, and my worries over how this day would go evaporated.
Our eyes met. “Thank you.”
“What for?” I asked. Emma looked at me as if I’d given her a great gift. I hope she wasn’t thanking me for marrying her because she’d soon realize I wasn’t the fucking catch everyone made me out to be.
“For dancing with me like this,” she said with a small laugh as if it should have been obvious. Her eyes sparkled with happiness, and all I could think about was how she could still be such a positive person after all the shit that’d been thrown at her. Hearing her carefree giggles had given me a burst of positivity I hadn’t felt in forever.
“You’re my wife. You deserve as many wedding dances as you desire.”
For all the shit you’ll have to put up with while being married to me.
The song drew to an end, but I didn’t stop moving back and forth with Emma, and when the next song began, she tried another twirl.
When she didn’t roll over my feet this time, she looked immensely pleased with herself. “How are your toes?”
I gave her a small smile. “Don’t worry about me. That was nothing. I can tolerate a lot of pain, and this is far less painful than the social chitchat at these gatherings.”
Her eyebrows rose, and her expression became teasing. “So you prefer me rolling over your feet to talking to me?” She flushed. I’d always only seen Emma’s quiet and shy side, so I too was surprised, not unpleasantly though. If she wasn’t quite as breakable, that would make things easier for me. Today, her personality had shone through several times.
“I don’t. Talking to you has been surprisingly pleasant so far.”
“Do you say it because you learned that lesson from watching your parents’ marriage or because it’s true?”
“It’s true, but said lessons definitely play a part too.”
She giggled, then bit her lip, looking away. After a moment, she cast her gaze back up, watching me through her long lashes. “I can’t wait to see what lessons you learned.”
A dirty joke lay on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it at the last moment. For some reason, I was unsure how to handle Emma when it came to the bedroom. We’d never breached the subject of sex for multiple reasons. It had felt inappropriate for a long time due to her age. She was eight years younger, dammit. Plus, we rarely talked alone. And for some reason, it felt as if I was taking advantage of her. Her disability made her seem so vulnerable that making advances on her felt like I was using her.
“Why are you frowning?” she asked, worry filling her beautiful face.
“It’s nothing,” I clipped.