She couldn’t stop.
When James asked whether she wanted to sit, she nodded so quickly that tears spilled down her cheeks.
That evening, she told him the first dance was canceled.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“We can do it seated.”
“I don’t want everyone watching me struggle.”
“Then we won’t have everyone watching.”
She shook her head.
“You don’t understand.”
He sat beside her.
“Then help me.”
She stared at the floor.
“I spent months imagining that I’d stand at our wedding. Just for a little while. I thought if I could do that, maybe I’d feel like myself again.”
James reached for her hand.
“Elena, you’re still yourself.”
She pulled away.
“I know what you’re trying to say.”
He fell quiet.
After a while, she whispered, “I don’t want our wedding to become a demonstration of how hard I’ve worked in rehabilitation.”
“Then it won’t.”
“I want people to remember that we got married. Not whether my knee held up.”
James nodded.
He called the wedding coordinator the next morning.
The traditional first dance was removed from the schedule.
They planned to spend that part of the reception visiting their guests instead.
Neither of them discussed dancing again.
Until an eight-year-old boy in a crooked bow tie walked across the ballroom.
***
Now Theo stood beside Elena’s wheelchair, holding the tablet with both hands.
