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I raised my eyebrow. “Bev let that happen?”

“She didn’t have a choice after I threw my suit pants down the garbage chute the morning of,” Seth mumbled.

Okay, that was a story I was dying to hear more about. But Emily was talking again. “He didn’t go to prom both because of the suit and because he didn’t dance. I wasn’t surprised at all when he moved to Vermont. He belongs in jeans and flannel all year.”

I raised my other eyebrow. “He didn’t protest about coming tonight.” I thought for a moment. “Okay, he didn’t protest much.”

Emily elbowed him gently. “Oh, really? What’s so different about this night?”

“Compared to all other nights?” Seth asked. “Well, we eat matzah instead of bread, we—”

“It’s not Passover,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes. “Fortunately, since I’ve had about ten of those mini waffles so far. You should definitely grab one of them before they stop circulating.”

“We’re definitely going to eat about a pound of those each,” Seth said.

Emily’s eyes widened. “Speaking of circulating snacks, I’m seeing the latkes with salmon roe on the other side of the room and I’m not letting them get away again. Catch up with you later? Oh, before I forget.” She pulled out her phone and extended her arm, crowding her face between Seth’s and mine. I barely had time to smile before she snapped the selfie. “Okay, see you!” Another cloud of perfume and damp skin and she was off, moving faster than I could’ve ever moved in heels like that.

“My mom’s probably already seen that selfie,” Seth said, turning back to me. “She’ll be delighted.”

Probably way more delighted than when Seth threw his bar mitzvah suit down a trash chute. “Really, though, I’m curious,” I said, and I wasn’t entirely sure why I was chasing the subject, just that I wanted to know. “If you really hate dressing up and dancing so much, why come tonight? We could’ve skipped it.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Dressing up and dancing isn’t so bad.” A beat of silence where I just stared at him. “Okay, it was the expression on your face after my mom told us about it. You lit up like you were Cinderella finally getting an invitation to the ball, without even having to wear glass slippers that could easily break and end in a gory mess-slash-amputated foot. Seriously, didn’t the fairy godmother know those were health hazards?”

“I always assumed they were magical unbreakable glass,” I said, mostly because I couldn’t say anything else without a lump rising in my throat. Actually, I didn’t need to say anything—there it was. I coughed, trying to clear it out. “Seriously, you didn’t have to do this for me. I would’ve been totally fine not going.”

“I know I didn’t have to,” Seth said. “I wanted to.”

Is this love? The thought wormed its way into the back of my brain. Doing something you really don’t want to do for the sake of someone else? Just to see them happy?

The string quartet launched into another interpretation of “Rock of Ages,” this one a little slower and more serious, as Seth smiled at me, then held out his hand. “Dance with me?”

I blinked. The dazzle of the room left golden impressions on the backs of my eyelids. “I thought you didn’t dance.”

The corner of his lip quirked in a smile. “I’ll dance with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” His hand didn’t waver. “I want to dance with you, Abby.”

I couldn’t do anything but nod.

Seth swept me up in his arms, moving us back into the dancing crowd. He didn’t seem to be doing any particular step, no waltz or tango or polka (not that I’d want him to be doing the polka; it was just one of the only dances I could think of), but his movements were fluid and elegant, his hands sure against my shoulder and my hip. Surprising for someone who claimed he didn’t dance. I wrapped my own arms around his shoulders, linking them loosely at the back of his neck, where his curls tickled them.

In this moment, focusing on the motions of my feet and my body, trying not to bump into any other couples or trip over Seth’s feet or the hem of my dress, my brain couldn’t dwell on anything else. Couldn’t make me deny anything else. I was forced to realize one single truth without trying to push it away.

I was happy. For the first time in a long time. Really, truly happy. Really, truly content. Really, truly comfortable.

And I didn’t want it to end.

That was enough of a thought to distract my brain. Sure enough, without constant minding, my feet got tangled between Seth’s ankles. My hands came loose as I toppled, ready to catch myself.

But I didn’t have to catch myself. Seth caught me. Pulled me back up. Murmured in my ear, “You okay?”

I opened my mouth to respond. Couldn’t think of what to say. No, I wasn’t okay; my entire life strategy was crumbling before my eyes and I was in the midst of an existential crisis while dressed as the night sky queen. Yes, I was okay, more than okay; I was happy, comfortable, safe, open.

In love.

The thought sent terrified shivers through me. I had to squeeze the words out through a throat that suddenly felt more like a drinking straw. “I need some air,” I choked. Air, sure. Any air where I couldn’t smell him, feel him.