Love Notes

Fanfare

Months passed, and while life carried Emma forward, she could feel Leo's presence everywhere. Her days were filled with classes, new friendships, and the subtle excitement of college life. But in the quiet moments, she'd sit in her dorm, her headphones on, listening to the CD he'd given her. Each song was like a page in their story, each note a reminder of their secret smiles, their stolen glances, and their promises whispered in the stillness of the music room.

She'd close her eyes, letting the smooth jazz fill the room, imagining Leo was right there beside her, leaning in close with that impish grin and asking, "What do you think of this riff?" The music was their connection, their love notes that traveled across miles, a language only they could understand. And every time she hit play, she was transported back to that gym, that final duet, and the way his eyes had sparkled in the spotlight.

Emma's college friends started to notice her jazz habit. "I didn't peg you as the saxophone solo type," her roommate Megan teased one night, catching Emma listening to Take Five on repeat.

Emma shrugged, grinning. "What can I say? I'm a fan of solos—especially ones that remind me of a certain jazz king."

Her friends laughed, but she knew they could never fully understand. Leo wasn't just her boyfriend; he was the person who'd shown her how to let go, to dance to her own rhythm, to let music be more than just sound. It was through him that she'd discovered a whole new part of herself, and that was something that wouldn't fade with distance.

As the semester rolled on, Emma got busier. Cheer practice, essays, late-night study sessions—it was a whirlwind that left her feeling both exhausted and exhilarated. But in the late hours, she'd still find herself pulling out that CD, her fingers tracing the handwritten title, Emma's Jazz Journey. Some nights, she'd find herself tearing up, missing Leo more than she wanted to admit, feeling like part of her was missing.

One November evening, as she was listening to Unforgettable, her phone buzzed with a notification. She glanced down and saw a message from Leo.

Listen to Coltrane's "Naima" for me tonight. Thinking of you.

Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't realized just how much she'd needed to hear from him. Smiling, she quickly found the song and hit play, closing her eyes as the soft saxophone poured into her ears. It was wistful, tender, and absolutely beautiful—a perfect reflection of how she felt.

Leo and Emma texted often, but they were careful about it, knowing that too much might make the distance harder. Instead, they sent each other little notes, lyrics, songs that captured moments, feelings. It was like the musical version of a conversation that never really ended. And through it all, she found herself growing, learning, becoming someone new—someone who still carried Leo in her heart, but also was learning to live in her own spotlight.

Thanksgiving break brought her home, and she couldn't deny how much she'd missed her family, her hometown, and the familiarity of it all. But most of all, she couldn't wait to see Leo. They hadn't made any concrete plans, both agreeing it was better to keep things light and spontaneous, just like jazz.

The first morning back, she woke to a text from him: Meet me in our music room?

Heart racing, she threw on a sweater and bolted out the door, her parents chuckling knowingly as she mumbled something about "catching up with friends." She could barely keep herself from running as she reached the school and slipped inside, her footsteps echoing down the hall toward the music room that had been their haven for so long.

When she opened the door, there he was, leaning against the piano, his familiar grin lighting up his face. The room looked the same as always, yet somehow, with him standing there, it felt like a dream.

"Missed you, jazz queen," he said, his voice soft, his eyes holding that same warmth that made her heart skip.

Without a word, she crossed the room and threw her arms around him, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne. "I missed you too, jazz king," she whispered, laughing as she realized just how ridiculous they sounded. But she didn't care. Nothing else mattered but this moment.

They spent the next hour in their familiar rhythm, playing songs, catching up, laughing as if no time had passed at all. Leo showed her new riffs he'd been working on, while she filled him in on her college adventures, exaggerating just enough to make him laugh. But beneath the jokes, they both felt the weight of being apart, the realization that life was pulling them in different directions, at least for now.

As they played, they slipped into a familiar song, something soft and melancholic, a tune they'd created together long ago. The notes flowed easily, each one a memory, a promise. They didn't need words; the music said it all. And when the song ended, they sat in silence, holding onto the moment, both of them knowing it was fleeting.

Finally, Leo looked at her, his eyes serious. "Emma, I know we're figuring things out, but I want you to know... I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

She felt a warmth spread through her chest, a reassurance that eased the ache of being apart. "I know, Leo. And I'm here too. In every note, every song."

They hugged again, neither one wanting to let go. But eventually, they had to. They said their goodbyes, each of them feeling the familiar tug of longing, but this time, it was tempered by the knowledge that they'd always carry each other with them.

Back at college, Emma continued to thrive, her confidence growing with each passing day. She became known as "the jazz cheerleader," always introducing her friends to new music, sharing snippets of Leo's playlist, and giving impromptu jazz explanations that left everyone laughing.

One evening, she received a small package in the mail. She recognized Leo's handwriting immediately and tore it open, finding a new CD labeled For the Next Chapter. Her heart soared as she read the small note attached: Some new songs to keep me close. And maybe a few surprises.

With trembling fingers, she put the CD into her player, letting the first song wash over her. It was a haunting, beautiful piece she hadn't heard before, and it felt like Leo was right there, sitting beside her, their fingers intertwined as they listened together. She let the music carry her away, each track a reminder that they were writing their own story, one song at a time.

In the years that followed, life took Emma and Leo in unexpected directions. She studied abroad, he joined a touring jazz ensemble, and for a while, it seemed as if they'd never find a moment to be in the same city, let alone the same room. But through it all, their love notes continued, each one a thread connecting them across continents, each message a reminder that their duet would always be there, waiting.

And then, one day, as she was unpacking in yet another new apartment, her phone rang. She saw Leo's name flash across the screen, and her heart leaped, the same thrill she'd felt that very first time she'd watched him play.

"Guess what, jazz queen?" his voice was full of excitement. "I got a gig... in your city."

She could hardly contain her laughter, her heart practically dancing in her chest. "So you're saying our duet has an encore?"

"Something like that," he replied, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Think you can find a piano?"

"Already got one," she said, glancing at the little upright she'd insisted on bringing with her. "Bring your sax."

And as she ended the call, she knew that no matter where life took them, they would always find a way back to each other. Because their love wasn't just a story; it was a song, a melody that played on, always finding its way into their lives, reminding them that they were each other's harmony.

As she sat down at her piano, her fingers dancing over the keys, she knew that their journey was far from over. They had a lifetime of songs to play, love notes to write, and a world of jazz waiting for them to explore—together.