“I know.”
But it will get easier.
Pulling her into my arms, I kiss her temple. “Do you trust me?”
Confusion clouds her eyes as she tilts her head to look at me. “Yes.” She gives me a look. “Why?”
Because I know what’s gonna get her through this.
Rising to my feet, I take her hand. “Come with me.”
Despite the dubious expression on her face, she follows me up the stairs.
However, when we reach the door to her dad’s bedroom, she shakes her head and plants her feet. “I can’t go in there.”
Lennon hates when I push her, and I get it. I feel the same way when she pushes me. It pisses me the fuck off and my first instinct is to shut down.
But we push each other because we get each other…more than anyone else ever could.
Music is therapy for Lennon, but she shoved it in a box and won’t let herself open it.
She doesn’t let herself create…but it’s who she is.
It’s what makes her whole.
I took it from her, but I’ll do anything to give it back.
Including giving up music myself. Because I can’t be whole until Lennon is again.
When she breaks…I break.
Even when I’m the one responsible for it.
Twisting the knob, I open the door. “Trust me.”
People don’t love her song because I sang it. They love it because they feel it.
Because they identify with her pain.
Because she poured every single ounce of it into her art.
Because her words—her music—her creation saved them.
It’s time for it to save her again.
Her eyes flick to the piano, and those baby browns widen when she spots it.
While Lennon was sleeping yesterday, I went through her closet and found her old journal discarded in some box all the way in the back.
“I didn’t read it.”
I was fucking dying to, though. But I didn’t. Not because I can’t, but because it’s hers. She gets to decide who she shares her art with. Not me.
Turning, I cup her cheek. “I know you got your stubbornness from your dad, but you also got your strength from him.”
She visibly swallows. “I don’t feel all that strong lately.”
She is, though. She’s the strongest person I know.
“I bet your dad didn’t feel strong after your mom died, either.” I gesture to the piano. “But he still created.”
I can tell she wants to protest, but I’m not finished yet. “I know it’s easier to walk out that door. I know it’s easier to push me and everyone else away because it fucking hurts. I know it’s easier to give in to the grief and let it take over.”
Just like I did with my guilt.
I draw in a slow breath and let it out. “But someone way smarter than I am once told me that my mistakes didn’t define who I was…it’s what I do after that did.” I tip her chin. “Don’t let your grief define you, Lennon. Don’t let his death be the end of him, because the greatest thing he ever did is still here. And he wouldn’t want her spending the rest of her life mourning him. He’d want her to live.”
A tear falls down her cheek and her gaze drifts to the piano again.
I see the longing in her eyes. Only unlike me, it’s not so she can become a vessel for the magic.
It’s so she can make it.
“It’s been years since I’ve done any of that. I don’t think I can anymore.”
She’s wrong.
She doesn’t know it, but I listened to her and her dad talk that day…for a little while.
It wasn’t my intention to eavesdrop, but when he made her sing her song, I found myself rushing back up the stairs and pressing my ear to the door so I could listen.
However, there was something he said shortly after that I’ll never forget. Something Lennon needed to hear.
“Don’t let your insecurities overpower that which makes your soul come alive. Otherwise, you’ll walk this earth never feeling whole…and that’s no way to live.”
She goes still, pain and adoration battling on her face.
I walk over to the piano. “Spend time with your dad and get whatever’s inside of you out. Because that’s how you’ll get through this.”
She stares at the piano so long I think she’s plotting her escape.
But eventually, she takes a few steps and then a couple more until she’s sitting on the bench.
“Fine.” A faint smile curves her lips. “But I know you only want me to write again because we don’t have a prenup. Which means you’re entitled to half our marital assets.”