The long way to us

Chapter 6

Echoes of the Past

Leah sat at the grand piano in her living room, the city lights twinkling outside like a field of stars. The music drifted into the room, filling the silence with soft, melancholic notes. It was late, the quiet hum of the city below a comforting backdrop to her thoughts. She pressed her fingers to the keys, a melody forming as her mind wandered. It was the first time in months she'd felt this free, this alone with her emotions. It was a space she hadn't allowed herself to enter since Elijah left.

*"If only he knew,"* Leah thought, closing her eyes as memories pulled her into the past.

She could still remember the first time she and Elijah had shared a song. It had been a late night after a recording session, both of them weary but unable to sleep. He had picked up his guitar, the smooth notes washing over her, and then they sang. He had looked at her with such raw sincerity, like he was trying to tell her everything with just one gaze. It had been in that moment that Leah felt a spark she couldn't name.

But then, everything had changed. The songs they wrote together, the late-night conversations, and the promises made under moonlight were now buried beneath layers of doubt and regret. He had walked away from her, and the reason still haunted her. It was not just the physical distance but the space it carved out in her heart that hurt the most.

The sound of her phone buzzing pulled her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen, a smile forming when she saw Milo's name.

*"Hey, sunshine,"* she said, her voice soft but steady.

"Hey, Leah. Just checking in. How are you holding up?" Milo's voice was as warm as ever, laced with concern.

"I'm okay, Milo. Just... thinking," she admitted, exhaling slowly.

There was a brief pause on the line. It was moments like this, when the air seemed to hold its breath, that Leah felt how much he truly understood her. The girl who once danced in her living room without a care in the world, the girl who once believed in love without conditions.

*"I know,"* he said finally, his voice low, serious. *"But I'm here. Always."*

Leah felt the weight of his words settle in her chest, soothing the ache that threatened to spill over. The past years had changed both of them in ways they never anticipated, but Milo had been a constant. He had always been there, even when Elijah was a shadow in the background of their story.

Across town, Elijah sat in his studio, guitar in hand, the midnight moon casting shadows across the room. His fingers strummed absently, a restless energy coursing through him. The lyrics to his new song lay in front of him, ink smudged from the force of his hand. He stared at them, the words bleeding into each other until they were unreadable.

*"Empty space,"* he whispered, the words aching as they left his mouth.

The song was a reflection of what he had become since leaving Leah. It was a cry for understanding, a confession to himself and to the world that he had made a mistake he couldn't undo. His mind flickered to memories of Leah — the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, the way she took up space in every room she entered. He remembered the late nights when she'd sing and he'd listen, feeling like he was on the edge of something beautiful and unbreakable.

He closed his eyes, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. It was only the two of them — Leah and him — back in that little corner of their lives when everything felt possible.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Elijah opened his eyes, startled by the sound. He set down the guitar and walked over, pulling the door open to reveal Grace, her eyes red and puffy. She stood in the hallway, shifting her weight from foot to foot, looking like she hadn't slept in days.

"Elijah, we need to talk," she said, her voice a blend of desperation and defiance.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to suppress the wave of guilt that washed over him. *"Not now, Grace. I can't..."* He hesitated, glancing at the lyrics scattered on the table. The song he was writing, the feelings he couldn't share with anyone else, were laid bare before him.

"You need to tell me what's going on. Why do you look at her like that? Why do you still write songs about her?" she demanded, the tremor in her voice betraying her composure.

Elijah sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Grace, we both know this isn't real. I never wanted this, but I have no choice. My father—"

"Your father is the reason you pushed her away in the first place. You're letting him control you, Elijah. Don't let him destroy you," she whispered, the last word dropping like a stone into the silence between them.

Elijah didn't respond. The weight of her words hung in the air, suffocating. The guilt clawed at him, but so did the memory of Leah, standing there in that moment of heartbreak, eyes brimming with tears. The final look she'd given him had been enough to break him. And now, here he was, surrounded by all the things he thought he wanted, and it was Leah who was missing. Leah who was gone, and it was his fault.

Back in Leah's apartment, the piano's notes fell into a soft silence. She ran her hand over the keys, her heart beating with a mix of nostalgia and newfound resolve. Milo was right — he had always been there, even when she didn't know how to reach out. The path forward felt uncertain, but she knew one thing for certain: she was no longer willing to wait in the shadow of what was. She was ready to embrace what could be.

The door to her apartment creaked open, and Milo stepped in, his eyes catching hers. He didn't say anything; he didn't need to. In that moment, she realized that what she felt for him was not just comfort. It was love — a love that had grown in the cracks left by the past, stronger and more resilient than anything she had known.

"I'm here," he whispered, echoing his earlier words, but this time, Leah heard them with her whole heart.

And for the first time in a long time, she believed him.