Deb joins us as we make our way closer to the dance floor. She holds her phone out to Addie; there’s a picture of Riley on the screen, beaming toothlessly at the camera, his brown eyes wide. He’s absolutely adorable; I have to try extremely hard to suppress the incoming wave of broodiness. One step at a time, I remind myself. I’ve never been particularly good at that.
‘Just got off FaceTime with him and Dad,’ Deb tells Addie. ‘They’ve bought him some ridiculous bouncy chair thing that must have cost an arm and a leg. He’s getting totally spoiled.’
She pulls a face, but she’s glowing, the way people glow when they’re not just happy, they’re whole. I’ll get to meet Riley, I realise – I’ll get to be part of his life, and Deb’s, and I’ll get to know all the new facets of Addie’s world.
‘Dyl?’ calls a voice from behind us.
The music starts up as I turn. Krish and Cherry’s first dance song is Shania Twain’s ‘Forever and for Always’ – I can only think that Krishna gave up on arguing about that one and let Cherry have her way.
It’s Luke and Javier behind me. They both look like they’ve arrived in a hurry, and Luke’s cheeks are flushed.
‘Dyl,’ Luke says quietly as they slot in beside us to watch the dance.
Krish is doing a remarkably good job of waltzing to Shania Twain, though his lips are moving a little as he counts the steps, and his expression of absolute concentration is somewhat comical.
‘Dylan, Mum’s left Dad,’ Luke says in a low voice.
‘What?’
I say it so loudly even Cherry and Krishna look our way.
‘Everything all right?’ Cherry calls to me as Krishna bends her over backwards.
‘Fine!’ I call. ‘As you were! What?’ I say to Luke.
‘It was amazing!’ Javier hisses. He’s bouncing slightly on the spot; his hair, pulled up in a high ponytail, bounces with him. ‘We’d just arrived at the moat, and your parents were coming to it at the same time, and Luke’s dad tried to go the other way so he didn’t have to cross paths with us – well, with me – and . . .’
‘Mum just flipped out,’ Luke says, shaking his head and smiling. ‘She threw her hat at him. Told him she was damned if she was going to muddle through another social event pretending she loved her husband, and that it was breaking her heart not seeing her sons, and that she was done standing by him. We’ve just taken her to a hotel and got her settled. Here, I’ll message you the details so you can go later – she’s dying to see you.’
He gets his phone out. I alternate between staring at the waltzing Krish and Cherry and the exuberant Javier and Luke.
‘Your mum just left your dad?’ Addie says beside me. She gives Luke and Javier a shy smile. ‘Hey again, you two.’
The moment when my brother and his fiancé belatedly clock that Addie and I are holding hands is truly beautiful. They both beam simultaneously, as if on cue, and Luke claps a hand on my shoulder.
‘Oh good,’ Javier says. ‘Dylan writes very lovely poetry but I’m not sure how many poems about heartbreak I can take.’
I reach over to shove him and he giggles, hiding behind Luke.
‘I can introduce you to my mum,’ I say to Addie, looking down at her wonderingly. ‘Without my dad there. That would actually be . . . nice.’
She smiles up at me. ‘I’d like that.’
The first dance is done – or at least, Krishna would like it to be. He is gesturing his best man on to the dance floor with an air of slight desperation; eventually a few couples take pity and the crowd starts to move towards the bride and groom.
‘May I have this dance?’ I ask Addie as the music shifts. It’s another slow-dance song, a slightly more conventional one: Jason Mraz, ‘I Won’t Give Up’。
We walk to the dance floor; Addie links her hands carefully behind my neck and I rest mine on her waist. I look into those river-blue eyes that caught me up from the very first moment I saw them. We sway together as the dance floor fills around us; I lift my head for a moment and see Deb dancing with Kevin, Luke with Javier. Behind them a young woman in a green and pink lehenga pulls a very proper middle-aged lady in a suit on to the dance floor with her, then Marcus is up, too, stretching a hand out to tempt Grace, and Cherry’s father is dancing with Krish’s mum, and it’s a melee of colour and hats and bodies swaying like we’re one moving part.
I look back at Addie’s upturned face. I can hardly believe she’s here; I feel suddenly compelled to count every freckle, to memorise the precise shade of her hair while I still can, and I have to remind myself that she told me she loves me. She’s not going anywhere.