Page 103 of Dirty Little Mistake

The final notes of the previous performance faded into applause. My muscles remembered the routine, but my heart stammered in protest. The audience would see a dancer, poised and graceful, while the people who should occupy those reserved seats would see nothing at all.

The crowd cheered for the performer before me, and my gaze lifted to the audience, searching one more time for Trystan, hoping he'd made it in the knick of time as the curtains closed.

The row reserved for me was still empty.

My shoulders curved inward, each breath catching somewhere between my ribs. The familiar pre-performance flutter in my stomach had transformed into something heavier, darker—the weight of yet another empty promise.

This was why my father always told me never to let my emotions show; it gave too much power away. It made you vulnerable, and being vulnerable sucked.

Ms. Willows appeared at my shoulder, her silver hair caught in the stage lights. "Are you ready, Camryn?"

I forced a polite smile because I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to face that empty row again. "This is what you've worked for since you were a little girl." I used to love dancing because, for years, it brought my dad home, or at least that was what I thought as a little girl.

I thought back to that night as a little girl. The curtains opened to see my father sitting in the front row with a dozen roses and a look of pride. It was that feeling I was still chasing, but today, that stopped. My father was gone. Jax and Kaia were hundreds of miles away, and Trystan... Well, he was Trystan, and I had to accept that he would probably never be that family I desperately craved.

I squared my shoulders, letting muscle memory take over. "Yes. I am ready."

I strolled out to the stage, hidden by the large red curtain, getting into place. I was trained in all forms of dance, but my favorite was lyrical. Sucking in a deep breath, I got into position. My head down and my body loose, ready for the curtains to open and the music to start.

The announcer introduced me as the curtains slid open, filling the stage with bright lights. I stood frozen, waiting for the music to start. One breath. Two. Three. Still nothing.

The silence stretched. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong. My muscles coiled tight, ready for music that didn't come. A mistake this basic hadn't happened in the theatre's history—not during a senior showcase. A bead of sweat traced down my spine.

The lights cut out. Darkness swallowed me whole. The audience's collective gasp echoed through the theater, but beneath it, I heard something else. Movement. Stage left.

"What the..." My gaze flashed up. All eyes were on me.

Each face in the audience blurred past until my eyes found the reserved row. The rhythm in my chest stumbled, skipped, then surged like a dancer missing her cue. It wasn't empty. Jax, Kaia, Syn, Harlow, Owen, Trystan's mom, Kaia's dad, and... And my aunt and uncle filled the row. My eyes swelled with tears. Trystan didn't make it, but the row wasn't empty.

"Camryn Young," a deep voice filled the quiet theatre, forcing me to follow the sound. A deep voice I recognized.

I spun on my heels. Trystan stood left stage wearing a black suit with a white button up open at the collar.

"What are you—" The words tangled in my throat. My hand trembled as I pointed to the audience, to his empty seat that suddenly meant something entirely different. Every minute I'd spent convinced he'd abandoned me again crashed against thereality of him standing here. Each step he took toward me echoed through the hushed theater.

My gaze shifted past Trystan to Ms. Willows standing just off stage, where I'd left her, with her hands clutched over her heart and a smile that said this was all planned.

"A few weeks ago, I asked you to move across the country with me," he said, his voice echoing through the silent auditorium as he stepped forward until he stopped in front of me. "And I realized that I couldn't just ask you that without a real commitment. Without proof I was in this forever." My brows pulled together. "I realized I couldn't ask you to leave everything behind unless you were sure this was real."

"Okay," I said, drawing out the word.

"So, I knew..." His voice softened, meant only for me despite the microphones catching every word. "I needed a grand gesture to really prove that I am so in love with you, Camryn." Behind him, the stage lights focus on us.

My heart stopped.

His hand slipped into his pocket.

The audience held its breath.

And Trystan sank to one knee on my stage. "Camryn Young, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Oh my god, Trystan." I tugged at his hand, trying to pull him back to his feet. "What are you doing?"

The stage lights caught the mischief in his eyes. "I'm trying to propose."

My next words came out as a whisper, but the microphones betrayed me, broadcasting my uncertainty to every corner of the theater. "Are you sure?"

"Camryn," he cut me off. "I'm doing this because I want you to be my wife. I want to be your family. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and," his gaze shifted to the audience,"and I wanted our friends and family to be here for not just this moment but for your last performance."

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