There's No Way

Free

[Shawn's POV]

I woke up the next morning and couldn't help but smile like an idiot at the beauty that was peacefully sleeping next to me. I kissed her forehead before slipping out of bed, careful not to wake her up. I figured I would get a quick workout in at the gym while she was still fast asleep. After my gym session, I stopped and picked up some breakfast for the two of us.

My lips curled up into a smile the second I walked back through the front door of our house. Quiet piano music could be heard the moment I opened the door. I walked over to the kitchen counter and set our breakfast down, tip toeing over to her bedroom and peeking through the door. Sure enough, there she was sitting at her keyboard - fingers lightly tickling the keys - creating one of the most beautiful melodies I had ever heard. I secretly watched her for several minutes as she poured her heart out through music.

"You know you can just come in and listen if you want..." she said nonchalantly as she continued playing. I was slightly caught off guard considering I didn't even think she knew I was home yet, let alone standing in the doorway behind her watching her. Regardless, I wandered my way up to the bench she was sitting on and took a seat next to her as she continued to play. I moved my hand to her back, my fingers slowly tracing her spine as I let myself enjoy her melody. Her eyes fluttered shut and I took the opportunity to gently press my lips against her shoulder.

"You're very distracting..." she whispered. I chuckled and pulled my lips away from her skin.

"I like watching you play," I admitted. "I feel like you don't do it very often."

"I do, I just don't really play when people are around I guess," she sighed as she removed her fingers from the keys.

"How many people have heard you play?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Just my parents..." she brought her eyes up to mine. "...and you."

I was shocked to hear that I was one of three people who had ever heard her play - shocked and a little disappointed. She was so incredibly talented; it made me sad to think that other people didn't get to experience this secret side of her.

"Well, I feel honored," I stated. "Why don't you want people to hear you?" Her brows furrowed as her eyes dropped down to the keys.

"I guess it always just felt really personal," she admitted. "Besides, I know I still have a lot of room for improvement. I never went to any lessons or anything, I just taught myself so I don't really-" I cut her off before she could finish her sentence.

"Wait, wait, wait - you taught yourself? You never took any lessons?" I asked in amazement. She shook her head. "You amaze me," I said as a huge grin spread across my face. She playfully rolled her eyes as her fingers returned to the keys, continuing to play.

----

Later that evening, Camila and I were sitting on the floor across from each other – engulfed in the most intense game of Scrabble either of us had ever participated in.

"For the record, I am going to win," she stated confidently. "You may be winning right now but I'll come back around - just you watch!" Her cockiness despite being the one who was currently losing was more than adorable. My attention was brought to the local news that was quietly playing on the TV as I heard them begin reporting on a fatal car accident that had taken place earlier that day.

"Drunk driver?" Camila asked. I nodded in response.

"Yeah, that's what it sounds like."

We both shifted our attention back to the game as she played her next word. Eyelash. 13 points - impressive, but still not enough to surpass my score. Both of our heads snapped back to the television as they announced the name of the drunk driver who was killed in the crash.

Lucas Leone

I immediately looked back to Camila to see her reaction. Her eyes were glassy and glued to the screen - her face borderline expressionless.

"Holy shit," she muttered under her breath. I quickly moved over to be next to her, wrapping her in my arms and holding her close to me. She wasn't crying, and honestly that didn't surprise me. She wasn't sad, she was just in shock. I held her in my arms for who knows how long, both of us completely silent before she looked up at me.

"Is that real? Is it really him?" she asked. I grabbed my phone and quickly Googled our local news station, finding the article about the crash online. I read through the first few lines before confirming that it was, in fact, the same Lucas that used to work with us - the same Lucas that had raped her. I set my phone on the table and looked down at her.

"It's him," I stated plainly. She stared at me blankly for several moments before shaking her head in disbelief and burying her face into my chest.

"I'm a horrible person," she muttered - my shirt muffling her words.

"Why would you say that?" I questioned. She vigorously shook her head and looked up at me.

"Because I shouldn't feel this way. Someone just lost their life and I feel...I don't know, I feel...relieved," she admitted - her voice laced with guilt. I took a deep breath as I tried to think through how I should respond.

"Listen, you don't need to feel guilty. He hurt you, and you were scared of him. That threat is no longer something you need to worry about. You're not happy that he's dead, you're just relieved that you don't have to be scared of him anymore. It might not feel like it right now, but there's a big difference between those two feelings," I said while lightly brushing my fingers through her curls. She let out a sigh of relief - it was almost like I could see the weight being lifted off of her shoulders. I could see the change happen in her; she finally felt free.

She deserved it; she deserved to feel free.