Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
He kneeled before me, and I met his gaze to see the prettiest of blues staring back at me. His hand cupped my cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. He pointed at the tree. “Do you want to sit with me?” I nodded, and I held my breath when he scooped me into his arms. He sat down, placing me beside him. The birds sang above us, the branches cradling the spot where Easton lay.
I stared at the flowers that had been laid and the fresh soil that had been poured on top of his coffin. This was the perfect place for him to be.
It was beautiful, just like he had been.
“I’m going to put a bench right here,” I said, “so that I can always come and see him.” Cromwell turned to look at me, his eyes glistening. “The way you played for him today…” I shook my head. “It was perfect.”
“It was your song.”
I sighed and looked out over the horizon, at the moon starting to rise. “I haven’t been able to listen to music since he left. It makes me feel too much.” The lump bobbed in my throat. “I’ve lost the enjoyment it used to bring me.”
Cromwell just listened. Exactly what I needed him to do. Then, “Lewis is my father.”
I whipped my head to him so quickly that I felt it in my neck. Shock forced its way through me. “What?”
Cromwell leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree. “You were right. Synesthesia’s genetic.”
“Cromwell…I…” I shook my head, unable to grasp the truth.
“He knew my mum in college.” He laughed without mirth. “More than knew. From what I can tell, they were together.”
My fragile heart struggled to comprehend what he was saying. Yet it beat fast, the strength of it making me breathless at what had just fallen from Cromwell’s mouth. “Cromwell…” I murmured. “I don’t know what to say. What…what happened with them?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “I haven’t been able to bring myself to ask him. He wants to tell me. I see it in his eyes every day. He told me he wanted to explain…but I can’t hear it yet.” He lowered his head, red bursting on his cheeks. When he looked up again, he said, “But he’s been helping me. We’ve been working together every day.”
I frowned, until it dawned on me. “You’re playing the gala?”
A flicker of a smile pulled at his mouth. “Yeah. And I think…” He looked into my eyes. “I think it’s good, baby. The symphony I’m composing…”
Baby. The endearment circled my head, only to float down and take up its rightful home in my new heart. As it settled I felt calm. Warm and safe beside the boy I loved.
“Easton wrote me a letter.” I closed my eyes, still feeling the sadness it brought me, but… “He’s at rest now.” I tried to smile. “He’s no longer taunted by the demons that took away his joy.” My eyes stayed on his grave. And I wondered if he saw us here now, needing to be with him. Missing him so much it hurt.
I turned to Cromwell. “What color do you see around his grave?”
Cromwell exhaled. “White,” he said. “I see white.”
“And what does that mean to you?” My voice was barely a whisper.
“Peace,” he said, a relieved calm to his voice. “I see it as peace.”
The final tether that had kept me chained to the grief I couldn’t release floated away to the dark sky above us. I leaned against Cromwell, sighing in contentment when he put his arm around me and held me close.
We stayed that way until the night grew cold and I grew tired. “Come on, baby. Time to get you back.” Cromwell picked me up and brought me to the car. He put me in his truck then went back for my chair. Sleep pulled me under, and I didn’t wake until I was back in my bed. I opened my eyes to Cromwell kissing my cheek. He met my gaze, a plea in his expression. “Come to the gala.”
My heart fell. “I don’t know, Cromwell. I don’t know if I can.”
“I have to go to Charleston. To work with the orchestra. But please come. I need you to see it. I need to know you’re there, in the audience…the girl who brought music back into my life.”
I went to answer, but before I could, Cromwell leaned down and kissed me. He stole my breath and my heart in that one sweet kiss. He walked to the door, then stopped in the doorway. “I love you, Bonnie. You’ve changed my life,” he said without looking back, and then he walked away.
I was sure he took my heart with him as his footsteps faded away. And I knew that the only way to get it back was to go to Charleston in a few weeks to see him perform.