Can music heal the fractured soul? Or will it tear them apart forever?
“Help me to understand. Christ, Isa, you can’t give me bits and pieces and expect me to see the whole. You’re angry with me for not being happy with you, but how could I be when you kept that person from me? I don’t know you, not because I didn’t ask the right questions, but because you never trusted me enough to let me in.” Because he couldn’t help himself, he trailed the back of his fingers down her cheek. “You’re right about me, I want more. I want all of you.”
She shifted minutely so that he had no choice but to drop his hand. “I can’t give you that.”
“You mean you won’t.”
Turning her back on him, she opened the driver’s door of her SUV and reached inside. When she faced him again, there was a manila file folder in her hand and a tear streaking down her cheek.
“My entire life, people have always referred to my music as a gift. But it’s not a gift, Noah, it’s a curse. It took away my mother and gave me to a devil in human form. And it will take you, right back into a world where I no longer belong.” She wiped away her tears with an angry swipe of her hand. “You’re going to do it. You’re going to get your record deal.”
He took hold of her elbow as she tried to climb into the SUV. “Wait!”
Her eyes slid closed and she sighed. “Noah, let go of me.”
“I can’t,” he replied softly. “I can’t let you go.”
Her eyes slid open as she jerked free from his grasp. “You have to. You don’t have a choice.”
Hand fisted, Noah stood motionless while she drove away. He opened the file folder, certain its contents would change everything.
He was right.
The wind picked up. Papers rustled, lifted. He slapped his palm down and held them in place as his mind struggled to process what he held. Good-bye, that’s what it was.
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