We never had a first dance.
At our actual wedding, a year and a half ago, we skipped it. Too traditional, we said. Too performative. We wanted authenticity, not choreography.
But tonight, at the foundation's annual gala, the band strikes up a slow song and Liam extends his hand.
"Dance with me."
"Here? In front of everyone?"
"Here. In front of everyone. Our first dance. Finally. Out of order like everything else we do."
I take his hand. Let him lead me to the center of the ballroom where three hundred foundation supporters are watching. Where we've just raised two million dollars to help survivors rebuild their lives.
The music is perfect. Something slow and romantic and timeless. We start to sway.
"I don't know how to do this," I whisper.
"Neither do I. But we'll figure it out to
