AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yeah. Like I said, it’s your money. I’m not going to tell you how to spend it.”
“Fine. Then I want to finish the Victorian. I think my… Well, I just think it’s what we should do.”
“If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do, but you’ll have to be patient. We’re still talking years here.”
Alek had already moved on. Maybe he could influence Ian into using his turn on the library after they finished the greenhouse. There was also the kitchen. Alek would use his turn for that next.
Ian’s breathing began to slow and deepen. Alek worried Ian’s cumulative sleep debt from the last two months had shaved a few years off his life, but he had another question.
“Knowing I have more money than you doesn’t make you feel emasculated?”
Without opening his eyes, Ian said, “Do you want me to show you exactly how emasculated I don’t feel right now?”
Alek wanted that, very much. “Another time. Go to sleep before I change my mind.”
The young doctor—Dr.Elias, Ian reminded him—returned before nightfall, carrying with him a large backpack.
Ian moved off the edge of the bed, where he’d sat facing Alek.
“No. Stay.” Alek liked being able to reach out and touch Ian to prove that he was still there.
From his bag, Dr. Elias removed a series of individually labeled plastic bags, opening them one at a time, before passing them to Ian to hold under Alek’s nose.
Fresh lemon zest, a cotton ball saturated with lemon essential oil, loose tobacco, tobacco-scented candles, pine needles, cedar bark, and so on and so forth. Dr. Elias was very thorough. There were four different cuttings of flowering wisteria he’d pilfered and a leaf from their own wisteria that Ian had missed. He’d also stopped by a music shop and bought a small bottle of piano polish, which Alek spritzed onto his side table.
There was no lightning bolt return of his musical genius. None of it worked and what little hope he’d foolishly allowed himself was extinguished. All the exercise had done was make him exceedingly nauseous.
“It would have been truly remarkable if this worked on the first round,” Dr. Elias said.
Alek used to be remarkable. Things had always worked out for him effortlessly.
Ian thanked Dr. Elias and walked him to the door, closing it and the curtain behind him, before returning to Alek.
“I’m sorry.” Ian held Alek’s face in his hands and kissed his forehead.
Alek closed his eyes and breathed in cedar and pine, but no forest grew inside his head. Alek would be better off if he accepted that his music was gone forever. He’d have to find something else to fill that void.
Perhaps Ian would do.
21
IAN
Over a breakfast of scrambled eggs and low-sodium sausage rounds, Ian asked Alek who taught him to play the piano. He had expected a short answer or some sort of pushback, but whether it was because Alek wanted his music back, or he felt particularly motivated to work on their relationship, or maybe he was bored, Alek’s answer was far more detailed than he’d anticipated.
Alek set his fork down beside his plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin before answering. “My uncle taught me to play. He was tall with hair as black as squid ink and eyes the color of a cloudless summer sky.”
He told Ian about his uncle’s house and his workshop, where Alek had learned how to fix ancient, broken things. Ian was afraid to say anything, in case it broke the spell. Alek described his piano in great detail, all the way down to the pair of initials—Alek’s and his uncle’s—carved into the side of it. He talked about the piano like it was a person. A person who died.
What had happened to the piano? It must have been a huge loss for Alek to leave it behind.
When Ian asked what happened to Alek’s uncle, he said, “You'll have to ask that another day. Next question.”
Ian respected that. What Alek had just told him was a precious gift.
“Why did you move into the Wells Building after I started working on it?” Ian asked.
Alek’s eyes met his. “How did you know?”
