17. Forgiving

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Allegro

"I'm afraid, Ma'am but-", the security guard says and I flash my ID card at him. His eyes travel through the I.D card before he faces me with an apologetic look.

"Ah. So you are Madam Cassidy. Am sorry-" He begins, but I simple walk past him to the stairs.

I've had enough apologies for today.

*********************************************************

My fingers ache, but my hands won't stop. In fact, I don't them want them to. They keep hitting the right porcelain keys, as if it were its family. As if it knew where to go and what to find. Grant has enraged me today. When was the last time I had thought about mother? I don't remember. That chapter has been closed. I have kept it closed, trying to avoid it, trying to neglect it.

But avoiding and ignoring won't stop the memories would they?

I think of the beautiful woman I had always loved, forever adored. I remember how my mother sang to me at night. I remember how in the lazy summer afternoons, her long black hair cascaded the sunlight from my face. I remember that she loved roses. I remember making earrings for my mother out of cardboard and she wearing it for a whole long day. I remember my mother cooking, humming to herself. I remember her playing hide-and-seek with me; us together swinging in the park; the long strolls; the blue eyes; the pink lips and rosy cheeks; the jasmine smell of hers; her choice of coffee; her hatred for spiders. Everything. I remember everything about her.

But I also remember the fear.

The fear that resided in her eyes when she saw my father, when she closed the door for their bedroom every night,the fear when she got to know that she had cancer, the fear of the belts, the fear of the forcing, the fear of the alcohol, the fear of the rage, the fear of me getting hurt, the fear of every next day, the fear of every night.

I try to close my eyes and forget the bad things. But they won't go. They will stay there and haunt me.

I feel my body trembling. No Allegro, pull yourself together. You have left the eight-year old, behind.

The piano. I remember my mother smiling at me, tears in her eyes, as I played composition after composition, trying to relief her of all the pain, not caring about a thing in the world. I did what I could, trying to shake her away, trying to make her believe that everything would be just fine.

But nothing did turn out right.

I feel the intimacy of the music growing with my feelings, the music coursing through my veins, settling itself among all the disgusting memories. With every key I strike, I lose my senses, the music completely taking over the room. It's raining outside, heavy drops creating a loud sound. I match the rhythm of my music with the raindrops as the knock on the windows. Possession- the music is possessing me, seizing me.

Suddenly, am broken away from the magical spell with the sound of his voice. Grant's voice.

"Please just let me in. Its urgent-" Grant says.

"No sir, am sorry. We can't let you in at these early hours without a membership card."The guard says.

"Please, just try to understan-"I can't bear it anymore. I stand up from the piano bench and cross the room.

As soon as I reach the door, and swing the handle open, both of their conversations stop. Grant's eyes rest on me and he lets out a sigh of relief.

He is seeping in the gray t-shirt, the soaking causing the shirt to cling to his body, showing every muscle of his. His broad shoulders, his abs, his hair messed up. He came running all the way in the rain for me.

"Let him in, Henry. He is of acquaintance." I say, my eyes never leaving his.

"Are you-"

"Yes, just let him." I say and the guard moves out of the way to let Grant in. I walk over to the piano bench and place myself on it once again.

"Did Willa send you?" I ask. Grant does not get close to me. He just closes the door and stands there with his arms crossed.

"Yes. Look am real-"He begins but I cut him off.

"Don't start again." I say and this time he does walk over to me. I don't look him into his eyes, afraid that they might change my spite into attraction at any moment. He places himself on the piano bench, so close to me that I can feel his breath on my neck.

"No, Allegro. You have to listen. Look am sorry. I really am. I shouldn't have done that. It was foolish of me. I had realized it, you know, my fault when I was doing it. But I didn't stop, I just wanted to-"

"To-?"

"To be let in. I want to understand you, Allegro. How long will you be hiding the dark side? You can't escape the truth, you know. You have to talk about it, share the grief. I just want it to be me, whom you share the grief with."

"I don't think that I can bear your longings. Because here's the truth. I want no pitying, no grieveing, no feeling sorry. I am numb out there. It's a dead end. So, stop trying."

Grant takes my hands into both of his, and intertwines the fingers. I flush at the small gesture.

"Look at me, Allegro", he says, and my eyes meet his," just talk to me about it. I can't make it better and I won't say its okay. Because its not. But that doesn't mean I would stop trying. The eight-year-old girl is still there, somewhere, hiding, waiting for herself to be loved."He says and I feel the tears grow in my eyes. Can't you see Grant? Can't you see what these memories do to me?
I push back the tears. Calm down. Talk softly.
"I understand what you mean. But I don't want to remember those memories. I don't want to be one of those girls who uses their past as a defense. If I ever felt like talking about it, I would come to you." I say and look away, uncertainty clear in my voice.
"Okay. But-" He begins but I cut him off, looking back into his eyes.
"There are no but-s." I say and lug the smirk back to my face.



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