“I fell in love with her over the next month of cricket games and study sessions and . . .” Never mind what else. Ella’s students didn’t need to hear those details. “I asked her to visit me before I had to fly home to Seattle. She did, and it turned into more. She chose to finish her senior year at Northern. We’ve been together, singing, raising our son since.”

I cleared my throat and leaned in closer to the microphone. “There’s no one I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. There’s no one I’ll ever enjoy singing with as much. So, whatever you’ve heard in the media or think you know from rumors at school, I want to put all that to rest.”

Now the hard part. I met Philip’s eyes, then Dave’s. He hadn’t given me his blessing—I’m sure he’d withhold opinion for a while longer—but he did seem to want Ella happy. I hoped I could be the one to bring a smile to her face again.

“Ella, I love you more today than the day I married you. I’ll love you even more when I die. Thank you for taking this journey with me. I never realized how hard it must have been to leave your home, your family, when I asked you to make a life with me. But you did because you’re strong and resourceful. And you’ll always be the better cricket player.”

I paused, my throat clogged by the lump of emotion.

“And thank you twice over for our incredible children.”

There was a soft snuffle from the crowd, but I didn’t care. The words I’d said were meant for one set of ears—ears not here to listen to what I was telling her.

With a deep breath, I focused on the bartender across the large pub. I strummed out the opening chords of the song I’d written for Ella for our honeymoon. I hadn’t sung this one in public ever.

Ella asked me to keep the song private—between us—and I had, always. But I hoped she understood I was doing this to show just how much I did love her. Because this tune was a bit too soft, a bit too sweet even for my ballad-laden albums.

As the lyrics swirled through my head, my chest constricted. Damn. We’d been so in love. So sure of ourselves, and our futures.

Look at us now.

I closed my eyes, my fingers sliding up and down the strings, and let my memories—all our years together—take over.

I finished the song and bowed my head, overcome by what I’d lost.

No. Worse.

I’d held the most amazing love in my hands, pressed her body close to mine for years. And I’d chosen to throw her—us—away.

17

Ella