“Sodding thing kept cutting out when I was driving it!”
“And on our first night in the flat we ate Indian takeaway straight from the containers, using plastic forks, and drank the wine straight from the bottle because we couldn’t be arsed to unpack any plates or glasses!” I’m really laughing now.
“God, we used to have such a laugh!” Simone crows, sounding a little breathless.
“A lot’s changed since then,” I muse, my laughter quickly dying as I stare into the water.
“For the better,” she says. But it actually sounds like a question.
She loves Jake, but he is who he is, and he has the problems he has. I know Simone worries for me.
“Definitely for the better.” I smile, the thought of Jake instantly bringing it to my lips.
I hear movement behind me. Turning, I see Jake making his way toward me.
“My absent fiancé has just reappeared,” I say to Simone. “I’ll call you later, once we’re all settled, okay?”
“Okay, honey, speak to you later.”
“Simone?” Jake asks, sitting on the edge of one of the chairs.
“Yes.” I nod, pushing my phone back into the pocket of my shorts.
“What you doing out here alone?” he asks.
Looking away, I shrug. “Just taking in the scenery.”
“It is beautiful.”
When I turn back to him, I find his eyes on me.
“Come with me,” he says, standing. “I’ve got something I want to show you.”
Jake pushes open the door to the library and leads me through.
In the centre of the room I see a piano. A stunningly beautiful black piano.
“Is that a Bösendorfer?” I ask, taking a tentative step toward it.
Owning a Bösendorfer was my ultimate dream when I used to play. Jake knew that.
“It’s a 290 Imperial,” he says softly from behind me.
“Wow, it’s beautiful.” I run my fingertips over the casing.
“It’s yours.”
I step back, away from the piano.
“I thought you could start playing again.”
“No…I, um…” I shake my head. “I haven’t played in a really long time, Jake.”
“Your dad said you stopped playing right after I left.”
He did?
“My dad talks too much.”
“Why, Tru?”
“I dunno.” I shrug. “He just does.”
“No.” Jake smiles, coming over to me. “Not why does your dad talk too much. Why did you stop playing after I left?”
I feel a flood of emotion rush through me, all that bottled-up pain I’ve carried around for all these years hitting the surface, causing my skin to prickle and my mouth to work of its own accord.
“Because your leaving broke my heart, Jake, and when you cut off all contact, what was left of my heart shattered. Music was always our thing, and it just hurt too much to play without you. And then one day, not long after you were gone, I just couldn’t bring myself to touch the keys. When you left…I guess the music left with you.”
Jake wraps his arms around me, crushing me to his chest. “Fuck, Tru,” he chokes out. “I’m so sorry I left you.”
“You were fourteen, it’s not like you could have stayed.”
I’m seriously fighting back tears here. One wrong word from him, and I’m envisioning a teenage-style sobbing session.
“No, but I could have kept in touch. I should have kept in touch. I was such a stupid, selfish f**ker back then, so f**king angry, and I couldn’t see past my own pain at losing you. I never thought how cutting you off would affect you. I should have come back to you the moment I turned old enough to leave home, and all those years since.”
“If you had, then the world would have missed out on the Mighty Storm. Everything happens for a reason, Jake.”
“I just wish that reason hadn’t meant twelve years without you. I f**kin’ hate that you stopped playing the piano because of me. I want you to have this back, Tru. I want you to start playing again.”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head, moving from his tight embrace. “It’s been so long since I last played, I might have forgotten how.”
“You couldn’t forget. You’ll be rusty, but it’ll still be there. You are an amazing player, Tru. Natural talent like yours doesn’t just disappear.”
I gaze up at his face.
“Try, for me? Please.”
How can I say no to him? Especially when he’s giving me the puppy-dog eyes.
“Okay,” I concede.
The smile he gives me nearly cracks me wide open.
I take the seat at the piano and let my rusty fingers hover over the keys.
“I don’t know what to play,” I say, feeling self-conscious, pulling back my hands.
“I bought you some sheet music,” Jake says, retrieving some music books off a shelf. “You know, just in case you needed them,” he adds, handing the books to me.
“Any of yours in here?” I tilt my head toward the books.
“No.” He grins, leaning against the piano. “I made sure they were clean before I bought them.”
“What if I wanted to play one of yours?”
“Then I’ll teach you. First, play me something from one of these.”
I sift through the books and opt for the modern music one.
Opening up the pages, I flick through to the first song and almost laugh. My Adele ringtone.