Some kids beam under the attention, others freeze for a second before launching into their moves, and one boy in a superhero cape gets so caught up in posing that Miss Delaney has to gently usher him offstage.
Then it’s Sadie’s turn.
She steps out hesitantly, small fingers tugging at the fabric of her dress before letting go. It’s royal blue, sleek in a waythat stands out from the fluffier outfits around her. The square neckline and puffed sleeves give it a regal feel, and the way the fabric flows as she moves makes her look like a tiny queen stepping onto her dais.
My throat tightens as I squeeze Charlotte’s hand tighter.
Shemadethat. She sat at her machine all night, stitching together something perfect for my daughter. Not just any dress—something to make her feel special.
Sadie clasps her hands in front of her, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she scans the crowd. When her lips press together, my chest tightens. Is she looking for Josie? Did she see me?
The music starts, and she hesitates, her fingers twitching at her sides. When her gaze locks onto mine, I recognize her crying face.
I sit up straighter. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” She can’t hear me from the stage, but I grip the back of the seat in front of me and nod. “You got this.”
Charlotte tenses next to me. “Aaron?—”
Sadie’s bottom lip trembles, then her whole face crumples.
Shit.
When the first sob escapes her lips, I rise to my feet.
“Daddy?” Her voice is small, broken, carrying through the room.
I’m already moving, and it’s when I reach the makeshift stage that I realize Charlotte is right beside me. Sadie stumbles forward, practically flinging herself into my arms.
I catch her, lifting her up easily as she clings to me, her face buried against my shoulder.
“Mommy isn’t here,” she cries. Her chest shakes against mine as I soothingly comb through her hair, the auditorium so silent, we’d hear a pin falling on the floor.
“I’mright here, okay? And I’ll make a video for Mom, so she doesn’t miss a thing.”
“I didn’t think you would come,” she hiccups between sobs.
My throat goes tight as I turn to Charlotte, who smiles with misty eyes. I can’t believe I almostdidn’tcome. I should have known better, trusted my instincts the way Charlotte did.
“Of course I came, baby.” I kiss the top of her head, holding her closer. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
She sniffles, then tilts her head up over my shoulder.
“Charlotte?” she asks, voice wobbly.
Charlotte pinches her cheek “Hi, kiddo. You look beautiful.”
Sadie blinks at her for a long moment. Then without warning, she untangles one arm from around me and reaches for her.
Charlotte stills.
I look at her, and she at me—like she’s asking for permission. It’s almost laughable—I wouldn’t be here for my crying daughter if it weren’t for her.
When I pull her to me, she steps forward and wraps an arm around both of us, and just like that, we’re all tangled together.
There’s no better feeling in the world.
“Thank you for my dress, Charlotte,” Sadie whispers.
“You’re so welcome, sweetie.”