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Chapter Twelve

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The notes came slowly at first, then began flowing with more ease as I stretched my fingers out and began closing my eyes and really allowed myself to find the beauty behind the music again instead of the tragedy that I usually felt when remembering the joy playing once brought to me.

The tears began leaking out of my eyes, but I didn't bother wiping them away, letting myself remember the things my brain always wanted me to block out.

Ryan always yelling at me from his room to shut up during my piano lessons, us always bickering about who got to be in control of the tv remote that night, me constantly asking him to get me a snack or something to drink because I was too lazy to get up and do it myself...

All of these memories meshed together into one until the tears splashed against the keys while my strokes became more and more rushed and rapid, switching back and forth between my favorite songs as my mood continued to flip flop between angst and sadness and anger about the unfairness of it all.

'Stars' flowed out of my fingertips and the words fell from my mouth as if I'd never stopped singing, the reaching highs melting into blended falsettos that I hadn't uttered since the moment Ryan died.

They'd wanted me to sing this song at his funeral, but I couldn't bring myself to do it...it just hurt too much, the words hitting too close to home.

I couldn't stare out into the sea of black clothing and stand up there in front of them as if I could somehow describe what his loss meant to me with a song that broke me apart just to think of it.

The deep crescendo of the song hit its peak and my body shuddered with the force of emotions soaring through me.

I was pretty sure I was going to awaken the whole neighborhood with my pain, but I kept on until the end, finishing with a flourish of notes and I felt a strange stirring within myself, and it was starting to feel a little bit like acceptance.


***


"That was some performance last night..."

Amy's words pulled me out of my pancake reverie the next morning and the blush she elicited from me was immediate. I hadn't sung or played for anyone in so long it was strange to hear someone talking about my playing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up..."

She sighed and placed her head in her hands.

"You didn't. I didn't get any sleep, so I just enjoyed the show."

"I'm sorry...are you feeling okay after last night?"

"As good as can be expected. I think I would heal a lot better if you kept playing more songs, they're very therapeutic you know..."

She gave me a sly wink and I realized she was trying to deflect the attention off of her and focus on my issues. It was a tactic I knew all too well and had used many times when people tried to pry information out of me when it came to my emotions and feelings.

I was about to come up with a witty retort because she hadn't known the extent my piano strike went but the words died in my throat when a muscled shirtless back came through the side door facing away from us.

I could almost feel the drool sliding down my chin.

Sculpted like a model out of an underwear campaign, Sawyer was the definition of sexy.

Earbuds dangling out of his ears and black basketball shorts hanging low on his hips, it was obvious he had just come from a run as the sweat dripping off his body was evidence enough.

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