The Dare Collection June 2019. Rachael Stewart

near the balcony. It gave a perfect view of the stage and on each chair lay an embossed programme. At the far end, something large and shrouded stood at the back of the room.

      I didn’t ask what it was, sure it would be revealed in time. I sat down, then froze as Damian lifted a bottle of champagne from a nearby ice bucket. His gaze met mine as he manoeuvred the cork, popped it and poured out two glasses.

      ‘Why now?’ I asked when he handed me a glass.

      His lashes swept down for a long moment before he exhaled. ‘Because...it’s you,’ he said simply.

      That shifting and shaking inside me intensified. Almost too late I recognised it for what it was. An emotional earthquake, shifting my axis, rearranging my preconceptions and goals in a way that shocked and awed.

      ‘Ready?’

      With a nervous swallow that had nothing to do with what was about to happen and everything to do with the metamorphosis occurring inside me, I nodded.

      He sat down and pressed a button.

      The stage lit up as the area around our seats dimmed.