Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
There are no formalities. There are no goodbyes. I just stroll out of the room.
I need to think. I’m way too invested now, and I need answers.
Fuck keeping my distance.
It’s not just about Roman. Now it’s about Sasha.
When I get to the end of the hall, I stop myself from walking, placing my head on the wall.
I think back to that day.
I think back to that night when the shot rang through the air.
I think back to that night and the blood that coated my hands.
My thoughts are of Roman. How he died. The promises I made.
With my head against the wall, my heart pounding in my chest, all I hear is the shot.
Over and over again.
That night doesn’t sit well. A deep hollow feeling settles in my chest. It spreads like decay inside me. There once was a time that none of this would faze me.
I wouldn’t care about the lies or the promises that were made, but that was before I saw her on the fire escape, and now, I do care more than I want to.
There’s something about her that draws me in. Her light threatens to blind me.
Fuck the consequences. I don’t care. I want her. She’s mine.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I make a quick dash to my room, needing to see her. Needing to calm this tsunami building inside me.
But she’s not there, and instantly, I feel unhinged.
Taking a deep breath, I head toward her old room, and that’s when I hear it.
Music playing.
The haunting melody breaks something inside me.
It reminds me of the ocean waves crashing against the shore. The deep, rich tones of the cello flow over me like a gentle breeze. Peaceful and calming, like being in a whole other world.
A world that she has created and I’m ensnared in.
The walls around my heart are collapsing. Like rubble falling, and I fear that once every bit collapses, I will never be the same.
She manages to break me down.
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be listening when I know it would bother her, but I can’t help myself.
I have to hear her play.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
When she plays, it’s like she’s playing just for me. I close my eyes and let her music wash over me. I’m lost in her world and don’t want to leave.
Eventually, she finishes, and the spell is broken. I can’t take another minute of the separation. I need to see her.
I reach out and knock on the door. My door.
For her, I’ll do this right. For her, I’ll give her privacy and space.
The hall is bathed in silence as I wait for her to either call out or open the door.
Or she could simply ignore you.
My foot taps on the floor, impatience building with every second that goes by. Will she tell me to come in? Or is she waiting for me to give up and leave?
Never gonna happen, firefly.
If she thinks I’d do that, she doesn’t know me at all.
I knock again, and this time, I hear shuffling before her small voice calls out, “Yes?”
“Can I come in?”
“No.” She says it so quickly that I wonder what she’s up to on the other side.
“Open up, Sasha.”
She groans on the other side of the door. “Fine. Give me a second.”
The door finally swings open, and I don’t wait to step inside. Sasha is quick to retreat across the room and take a seat on the bed. She looks rattled. But why?
The cello sits beside her on the mattress, and her knees are bent with her arms wrapped around them. Her face is tinged with fear. Pale. What is she afraid of? What lurks in the corners of her mind? The ghosts from her past?
“D-did you h-hear me?” She stammers the words, and my heart breaks a little.
I don’t know why she’s so afraid of people hearing her play. I want to know what’s going on in that head of hers.
“You play beautifully,” I say before I can stop myself.
She looks up at me, surprise in her eyes. “You were listening? For how long?”
I nod. “Long enough to know you’re very talented.”
Her head drops. “I wouldn’t have played if I’d known anyone was listening.”
“You didn’t know I was here? That I was home?”
“No, I didn’t, or I wouldn’t have been playing. Like I already said,” she snaps. It sounds like her fear has turned into anger.
The need to make her feel better is intense. I want her to let go of these fears.
“You not playing would be a tragedy,” I tell her, and her mouth falls open, but no words come out. “Is there any way you could learn to play in front of people?”
“I’ve tried.” She shrugs. “It’s sad, honestly, because all I want to do is play. All I want to do is perform in a theater. Go to Juilliard…” She stops herself, her hand covering her mouth.