The applause that erupted after the first song was a physical wave, crashing over Althea and snapping her out of the intense, silent conversation she was having with Haven's eyes across the crowded pavilion. She blinked, the spotlight burning her retinas, and remembered there were hundreds of other people in the room.
She gave a wobbly, breathless laugh into the microphone. "Thank you! Don't worry, guys, I'm not done torturing you yet. I've got one more little time capsule to share with you tonight."
The crowd cheered, their energy feeding her own nervous exhilaration.
"Now, this next song," she began, her voice regaining its playful lilt, "I literally just found it. It was hibernating in a dusty old box in my suite, like a musical bear." A ripple of laughter went through the audience. "And I have to warn you, it's... very, very corny. Teenage-me was a bit of a cheeseball."
She took a deep breath, her gaze drifting back to the back of the room, where Haven still stood, frozen. "I wrote this about my childhood friend. The one who had to listen to all my terrible first drafts and pretend they weren't completely awful."
She paused for dramatic effect, a slow, mischievous grin spreading across her face. The stage lights, following some unseen cue from a starstruck technician, swiveled and pinned Haven in a brilliant, solitary spotlight.
"And, as it turns out," Althea announced, her voice ringing with a mix of teasing and genuine awe, "I ended up marrying her. There she is, everyone. My wife, Haven Hartwell."
The crowd gasped, then erupted into a fresh wave of applause and excited murmurs. Haven, caught in the spotlight, looked like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming freight train. Her cheeks were flushed a deep, undeniable crimson, her posture so rigid she seemed to be defying physics.
Crowd Comments:
"Wait, so the rumors are false? Their marriage isn't a business arrangement?"
"Oh my god, she's blushing! The Haven Hartwell!! is actually blushing!"
"This is the most romantic thing I've ever witnessed! They're in love!"
"I heard their marriage was falling apart even before the accident! This proves it was all lies!"
"Look at them! This isn't a PR stunt, this is real!"
Althea let the moment hang, savoring the sight of a utterly flustered Haven, before turning back to her laptop. She clicked on the file for the second song, the one labeled For My Sky. The opening notes of "Catch Me" filled the air—a brighter, more urgent, pop-infused melody compared to the first song's melancholy.
As she sang, the lyrics unlocked another layer of her forgotten past, but this time, they were eerily, perfectly synchronized with her present.
I don't know why but when I look in your eyes
(I'm looking at you right now, Haven. And it does feel right. Even with all the confusion, the amnesia, the contract... when I look at you, something in my shattered soul settles.)
I feel something that seems so right
(You have your CEO life, your control. I have my amnesia, my chaos. We're from different worlds.)
I think I'm losing my mind
(I absolutely am. I'm singing a love song I don't remember writing to my own wife in front of a hundred strangers. This is peak insanity.)
Coz I shouldn't feel this way...
The chorus burst forth, and Althea poured all her current, confusing, overwhelming feelings into the words her teenage self had written.
Catch me I'm falling for you!
(It's happening again, isn't it? I'm falling for the same person. The amnesia didn't erase the pull, it just reset the clock.)
And I don't know what to do!
How can something so wrong?
(A contract marriage? A wife who can't remember you? A past full of pain? That's all so wrong.)
Feel so right all along?
(But your scent feels right. The way you care for me feels right. The way you kissed me back felt devastatingly right.)
Catch me I'm falling for you!
She kept her eyes locked with Haven's as she sang, a magnetic force pulling them together across the crowded room. Haven wasn't trying to hide anymore. The initial shock had melted into something raw and unguarded. She was just... watching. Listening. Her expression was a turbulent sea of conflict—pain, nostalgia, and a dawning, terrified wonder.
How can time be so wrong?
(We had our chance, didn't we? And Past Me ruined it. The timing was wrong then.)
For love to come along?
(But what about now? Is this a second chance, or just a cruel echo?)
Catch me I'm falling for you!
And I can't go along pretending that love isn't here to stay...
(I can't pretend this is just a contract anymore. I can't pretend I don't want to know why my teenage self called you 'Heaven.')
The song built to its climax, Althea's voice soaring with a power that felt both new and ancient. She was singing a confession for two people: the ghost of the girl who wrote it, and the woman who was living it all over again.
Catch me I'm falling for you!
How can something so wrong? Feel so right all along!
Catch me I'm falling for you!
As the last note faded, the pavilion exploded. The applause was deafening, a roaring, standing ovation. People were whistling and cheering, caught up in the sheer, unscripted romance of it all.
More Crowd Comments:
"OH MY GOD! THAT WAS THE MOST ROMANTIC THING I'VE EVER SEEN!"
"Her song style completely changed! She's in her in-love era!"
"Did you see the way they were looking at each other? I'm going to cry!"
"Forget the rumors, this is the real deal! Althea Vale is head over heels!"
"I need to call my partner right now and tell them I love them!"
Althea, her heart hammering against her ribs, gave a deep, theatrical bow. "Thanks, guys! That's all for tonight! I'm gonna go... uh... go back to my wife now."
And with that, she unceremoniously dropped the microphone, snatched her laptop from the stand, and literally sprinted off the stage, ignoring the twinge in her healed leg. She weaved through the tables, a blur of silk and adrenaline, not stopping until she skidded to a halt right in front of a still-shell-shocked Haven.
Without a word, she threw her arms around Haven's neck, burying her face in the Alpha's shoulder. For a heart-stopping second, Haven remained rigid. Then, with a shuddering sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her soul, her arms came up and wrapped tightly around Althea's waist, holding her close.
The crowd, witnessing this, went absolutely wild, the applause reaching a fever pitch.
Haven's voice was a low, strained whisper directly in Althea's ear, her breath warm against her skin. "What are you planning, Althea? Was that a public relations stunt?"
Althea pulled back just enough to look up at her, her eyes sparkling with tears and triumph. "A PR stunt?" she whispered back, her voice giddy. "Haven, that was a live-streamed, musical exorcism of my own cringey past! And a declaration of war on your emotional constipation!"
A flicker of something amusement? exasperation? crossed Haven's face. "You are a chaos agent."
"And you're my favorite subject," Althea shot back, grinning. "Now, can we please get dinner? I just performed two concerts on an empty stomach, and my Dominant Omega metabolism is screaming for that buffet."
They ended up at a secluded table on a private veranda overlooking the moonlit ocean, the sounds of the resort a distant hum. The awkwardness was gone, replaced by a charged, intimate energy. A waiter had immediately brought them a selection of the buffet's finest offerings.
Althea was devouring a piece of grilled lobster like she was personally avenging its ancestors. "So," she said around a mouthful, " 'Heaven,' huh?"
Haven, who was dissecting her own lobster with surgical precision, froze. The blush, which had finally receded, came rushing back. "It was a childish nickname you bestowed. It is irrelevant."
"Irrelevant?" Althea gasped, putting a dramatic hand to her chest. "Haven B. Hartwell! It is the single most relevant piece of data I have uncovered! It explains the entire secret archive of my teenage angst dedicated to you! You weren't just my best friend; you were my muse! My celestial body!" She paused, her head tilting. "But wait... if the treasure chest was my old stuff, and I called you 'Heaven'... what was 'Sky'? There was another song, 'For My Sky.' Who's that?"
Haven's knife stilled completely. She looked genuinely perplexed, a rare crack in her omniscient facade. "I... don't know," she admitted, her voice softer. "You never said. You just started using both names in your notes around the same time."
Althea leaned back, her mind whirring. "Heaven and Sky... Hmmm, I wonder what the meaning was. Were they a pair? Like... a set?" She tapped her chin, her eyes glinting with playful speculation. "Maybe 'Heaven' was you, the perfect, untouchable best friend I put on a pedestal. And 'Sky'... was that me? The one who was supposed to be free and boundless? Or was it something else entirely? A secret code? A person? Ooh, was I seeing someone else? Was I a teenage player?" she gasped in mock horror.
A faint, almost imperceptible shadow crossed Haven's features at the last suggestion, so quickly Althea almost missed it. "Your lyrical focus was... intense. I find the possibility of a third party statistically low," Haven stated, her tone dry, but there was a new tension in her shoulders.
"I was your captive audience," Haven continued, deftly steering the conversation back to safer, more teasing ground. "You would corner me after school and strum that infernal guitar until I gave feedback. 'Heaven, does this bridge make you feel existential dread or just regular dread?'"
"And you loved it!" Althea insisted, pointing her fork at her, the mystery of 'Sky' temporarily shelved for the more pressing matter of tormenting her wife. "Admit it! You treasured every corny lyric! Archiving is just a fancy word for 'hoarding your crush's mixtapes'!"
"Preserving creative assets is a responsible practice," Haven countered, taking a slow, deliberate sip of her water, though the pink tips of her ears betrayed her. "It was due diligence."
"Due diligence for your heart!" Althea was practically vibrating in her seat with delight. "We were a walking, talking teen romance novel waiting to happen! Heaven and... well, whoever 'Sky' was. Probably me. It has a nice ring to it. Althea 'Sky' Vale. Very celestial. Very dominant."
"The past is a foreign country, Althea," Haven said, her voice tight, a familiar defense mechanism rising. "They do things differently there. The maps are unreliable."
"But what about the present?" Althea asked, her tone softening, becoming more earnest. She leaned forward, her voice dropping, the moonlight catching the silver in her eyes. "The song... 'Catch Me.' It felt true. Not just then, but... now. How can a song about falling feel so familiar when I can't remember the trip?"
Haven finally met her eyes. The storm in them had quieted to a deep, unreadable stillness, the reflection of the ocean waves shimmering in their grey depths. "The mind is a ledger. It can be lost, the entries blurred. But the heart... the heart is a muscle. It remembers the rhythm of old dances, even when the music has been forgotten."
It was the most poetic, devastating thing Haven had ever said to her. Althea felt her breath catch in her throat, her playful banter evaporating into the warm, salt-tinged air. In that moment, Haven wasn't the CEO or the Secret Chef or the blushing Alpha. She was the keeper of their forgotten music, the one who remembered the rhythm.
Before Althea could formulate a response that wasn't a sob or a kiss, a young couple, emboldened by the performance, approached their table shyly.
"Excuse us, Mrs. Vale, CEO Hartwell? We just wanted to say... that was the most beautiful thing we've ever seen. You two give us hope." The woman beamed, her eyes flicking between their close-leaning forms.
Althea, pulling herself together, grinned, reaching out to cover Haven's hand on the table with her own. Haven's fingers twitched, then stilled, warm under Althea's touch. She didn't pull away.
"Thank you!" Althea said, her voice a little husky. "We're... rediscovering the playlist."
As the couple left, Althea turned her grin back to Haven, though it was softer now. "See? We give people hope. We're a symbol of love's greatest hits getting a second chance on the charts."
Haven slowly extracted her hand, but the gesture was absent-minded, not rejecting. "We are a symbol of a complex corporate and personal merger that the public has chosen to score with a romantic soundtrack."
"Same difference," Althea chirped, the magic of the moment settling into a comfortable, warm glow in her chest. "So, what's the plan for tomorrow, CEO? More board meetings? Or can I convince you to have a 'structurally necessary' day at the beach with your secretly corny, currently-falling-for-you wife? We can even try to solve the mystery of the elusive 'Sky.'"
Haven looked out at the dark, rolling ocean, the ghost of a true, unguarded smile finally touching her lips, making her look younger, like the girl in the photograph. "We shall see, Althea," she said, her voice a low murmur that blended with the sound of the waves. "We shall see."