I’m leaning against the bar by the cash register when my favorite song comes on the jukebox. I don’t have to turn around to know David played it for me. The song breathes life into me. Someone nudges my elbow as I hand the card to the waitress. “Looks like someone is waiting for a dance,” a stranger tells me. I don’t even turn to look at the man who spoke, my eyes are solely on David. I snatch the card out of the waitress’s hand when she returns it and rush over to him. He pulls me onto his lap, making me squeal. He wheels us around the dance floor, my hands framing his stubbly cheeks.
