Page 89 of Just The Way You Aren't

I take a deep breath before I climb the steps on legs that feel surprisingly steady, even in high heels. I have no notes, no prepared statistics. Tonight, it’s just me and a microphone anda room full of people who can make a real difference. Everything I’m about to say will be coming straight from my heart.

It’s Damien who’s given me the confidence to stand up here and talk to this audience of men and women as an equal. He’s helped me in ways I’m only beginning to realize.

"Good evening, everyone," I begin, my voice carrying clearly through the ballroom. "I'm Willow Harper, Executive Director of Silver Hearts, and I want to thank you all for being here tonight."

I breathe in slowly, centering myself before I continue. "Every day in our city, seniors face challenges that most of us can't imagine. Many struggle with medical equipment insurance won't cover. Others battle isolation, living alone in apartments they can't easily leave. Some fight bureaucracy just to access the benefits they've earned. But what they all have in common is a desire to maintain their dignity and independence, to stay in the homes and neighborhoods they love."

The room is silent, everyone listening intently. I find Damien in the crowd, standing with his impossibly handsome friends, and his smile gives me all the encouragement I need.

"These are the people Silver Hearts serves. They're not statistics—they're our community members who've spent decades contributing to our city. Teachers who shaped young minds, nurses who cared for the sick, workers who built these very streets. They deserve to age with dignity, to maintain their connections, to feel valued."

I pause, letting the words resonate. "Your generosity tonight helps us provide meals, transportation, home repairs, companionship—whatever it takes to bridge the gap between what our seniors need and what's currently available. Simply put, your support transforms lives."

I take in the ballroom full of richly attired donors, recognizing that every one of them knows what it’s like having a parent or loved one who struggles with the many challenges of aging. Their faces reflect sympathy and understanding as I go on with my remarks.

"Our mission at Silver Hearts is simple but vital: to ensure no senior feels forgotten or left behind. It takes dedication, creativity, and sometimes... flexibility.” My eyes return to Damien in the crowd, and I smile. “I've learned that the work we do rarely follows a predictable path. A simple meal delivery might turn into an hour of companionship. A scheduled home repair might reveal other urgent needs."

Damien watches me, nodding in agreement as I speak. "Two weeks ago, I witnessed something remarkable. A very busy man accustomed to rigid schedules and precise timelines stepped into our unpredictable world. I expected he wouldn’t last. To be honest, I didn’t expect him to care. But he proved me wrong. Instead of turning away, he dug in. He adapted beautifully. He listened when a senior needed to talk, even if it meant running late. He stayed to solve unexpected problems, even if it disrupted his carefully planned day."

I see his expression soften as I speak.

"What impressed me wasn't just his generosity or business expertise, though both have been invaluable. What touched me was his willingness to be present, to truly see the people we serve, and to recognize that sometimes the most meaningful connections happen in those unscheduled moments."

I look directly at him, unable to hide the affection I feel for him. The love. "Damien Langley hasn't just supported Silver Hearts—he's embraced our mission and shown what true partnership looks like. Damien, would you please join me up here?"

His friends nudge him forward, and he makes his way to the stage, looking somehow both confident and uncertain. When he reaches me, I take his hand.

"Thank you," I say simply, speaking into the microphone but looking at him. "For showing us that the best laid plans sometimes need to be set aside for what really matters."

He takes the microphone gently and clears his throat. "Willow's being far too generous," he says, his deep voice resonating through the room. "The truth is, she's the one who taught me what really matters. She sees potential where others see problems. She finds solutions in chaos. She turns every obstacle into an opportunity to make someone's life better."

His eyes never leave mine as he continues. "Working with Silver Hearts hasn't just changed my schedule—it's changed my perspective. And that's entirely due to this remarkable woman who believes that everyone deserves to age with dignity, independence, and joy. I'm honored to be part of her mission. Now, if you would indulge me, please give the remarkable Ms. Harper a well-deserved round of applause."

The room erupts in clapping and cheers. He hands back the microphone, but before I can speak, the auctioneer's voice booms across the ballroom.

"Ladies and gentlemen, while our speakers were inspiring us, our auction team has been tallying results. I'm thrilled to announce that tonight's silent auction has already raised over six hundred thousand dollars, with more bids still coming in!"

I gasp, my free hand flying to my throat, fingers brushing the diamonds and pearls there. Damien pulls me against his side as the crowd cheers.

"Oh my god," I breathe. "That's twice our goal already."

"And climbing," he murmurs in my ear. "Look at the bid sheets still circulating."

I watch in amazement as guests continue to outbid each other on auction items. The evening takes on a celebratory atmosphere as the band starts playing and couples begin to dance. Waiters circulate with champagne, and I accept a glass gratefully, though I barely taste it. I'm drunk on success and possibility and the solid warmth of Damien beside me.

"Dance with me," he says, setting both our glasses aside and drawing me onto the dance floor.

The band is playing something slow and romantic, and I melt into his arms. We fit together perfectly, my head nestled just below his chin, his hand warm on my lower back.

"Thank you," I murmur against his chest. "I couldn't have done any of this without you."

"Oh, that’s not true. You would have found a way." His thumb traces small circles on my back. "You always do."

"Maybe. But it wouldn't have been this magical."

He spins me gently, then pulls me close again. "Speaking of magical, do you know what you've done to me in that dress?"

"I have no idea, Mr. Langley." My voice comes out breathier than intended.

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