"And one, two, three! One, two, three! Shit!" Sheepishly he jumped back the same moment she jumped back hoppling.
"God I am sorry Molly. I'm hopeless!" She waved her hand with a forced laugh. "Ned it's fine, I am sure it's just a bruise. Shall we try again?" With a nod he stepped forward taking her hand, the music from the corner continued to play as they danced across the empty space.
"Ow!"
"Molly that's it, I am a failure. It's ok I accept it. I won't be able to dance at my own wedding. Don't worry I am sure Irene wasn't excepting anything less from me." Telling him he was wrong that it was worth trying, not give up and other words of cliché encouragement rolled over Molly's mind, yet she couldn't say them. Perhaps he was a failure, it was an easy dance number and he had made little (if any) progress in three days.
"Perhaps there is something else you can surprise Irene with? A song?" She couldn't help to smile at Ned's booming laugh.
"I never knew you did comedy Molly, a new career move?"
"I do it all. Musician. Wife. Mother. Comedienne. Teacher of hopeless dance students. Quite a difficult life if I do say so myself."
"Well than in that case I shall lessen your load by officially quitting lessons. Though I do thank you for your help." He walked up to her, reached for hand raised it to his lips and gently kissed it.
"You are welcome Ned, but do you mind?"
"What?"
"Foot you're on my fucking foot!"