Jude doesn’t play beautifully.
He plays exquisitely.
And I’m not sure my heart can handle it.
44
STAR GAZING
In the music room, I have nowhere to hide, no reason to leave, and I’d look really silly plugging my ears. So, with every muscle tightly coiled, I stand between my dad and Twig while Jude plays, and despite my best efforts to disassociate, I am impossibly engaged.
Sheep cease to exist.
His haunting rendition ofO Holy Nightmelts effortlessly intoHave Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. I am swept away, straight off my feet, unable to breathe until the music comes to an end and applause ripples through the room.
I clap with everyone else, but my throat is tight.
My lungs, too.
I feel squished, claustrophobic.
In need of a proper breath.
So when Isabel tells us the heaters are running on the terrace and we’re welcome to enjoy the stars, that’s all the invitation I need. I slip outside, where a rush of cold air envelops me. Inhaling deep into my lungs, I cross my elbows on the balustrade and focus hard on sheep.
Sheep, sheep, sheep.
But the music was a wrecking ball swinging through my defenses.
My emotions have nowhere to go.
And there are footsteps behind me.
Followed by the familiar scent of Jude’s cologne.
He slides his hands over the railing. “Are you okay?”
I huff, because no, I’m not okay. Not even remotely.
Jude doesn’t press.
He just draws in a breath and for a length of time, we stand there, side-by-side, looking out at the snowy grounds while the heater hums and the stars twinkle.
“Where did you go earlier, before dinner?” he finally asks.
“The library,” I tell him. “Today, I got this idea. About my mom. She was really good at writingletters. A lot better than speaking words, anyway. I started to think, maybe she wrote a goodbye to Simon when she came back here five years ago. Maybe she left the letter inside a book that was meaningful.”
“Dorian Gray,” Jude says.
“Dorian Gray,” I repeat. “But I was wrong. I found the book and there was nothing inside.”
“We have more than one copy of that book.”
I turn with a jerk. “You do?”
“Special editions.”
A spark of hope ignites.
