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“I love you, too.” My heart fluttered in my chest as he kissed me and positioned his cock against my slit.
There Are Some Things I Need to Say
Several weeks later…
IT WAS STARTING TO feel like James and I were as we once were, that our daily texts and emails (and of course, the sex) were enough to heal our nine and half year wounds. We shared nights in his place, mornings in mine, and we still managed to go at least four rounds a night like we used to.
We talked about the soft and simple things, delicately tiptoeing around the hard subject of whatever happened in the past.
“Miss Kennedy?” Summer stepped in front of my desk as I sent James another text message.
“Yes?”
“It’s almost midnight. Can I please go home?”
“Sure.” I nodded and set down my phone.
Even though my team worked hard, I worked the hardest, and I was always the last to leave. So far, my newest campaigns for Pier Autumn Coffee were showing promise, and every day I woke up to a “Thank GOD you’re here!” email from a board member.
Standing up from my desk, I slipped out of my heels and put on a pair of flats. I grabbed my notebook and headed for the rooftop so I could think alone.
When I stepped off the elevator, I stalled in the doorway.
Sitting around the crackling fire pit was a string quartet, three violinists and a cellist. They were sipping glasses of wine in between tuning their instruments.
Confused, I stepped closer and cleared my throat. “Good evening.”
“Good evening!” The redheaded violinist spoke up first. “If you’re looking for your friends, they decided to host the meeting on the floor below us.”
“I’m not looking for anyone,” I said. “I’m just curious. Why are you playing on the roof at this hour? I’ve never seen you up here before.”
“This is where we record new songs, every last Thursday of the month,” the lead said. “Per request of Mr. Holmes.”
I blinked.
“He claims it helps him focus and sleep,” she said. “You’re more than welcome to listen.”
“You should let her play.” James’s deep voice was behind me. “She’s quite the cellist.”
“Used to be.”
“I’m sure you still have it.” The cellist smiled and stood up, motioning for me to take her seat.
“What are we playing?”
“A mashup with two of Mr. Holmes’ favorites.” She pointed to the sheet music. “It’s Mozart’s Lacrimosa with Adele’s Hello.”
I picked up the bow and positioned myself in the chair, reading the first few lines of notes before the lead violinist counted us off.
The strings sung to my bow with ease, and it all came back within seconds. The more I played, the more reality disappeared, and for eight minutes I was playing center stage in Edgewood, bowing my cello under a harsh spotlight in hopes of a standing ovation and applause.
When the piece came to an end, the other members of the quartet stared at me with their jaws dropped.
“Feel free to join us anytime,” the lead said. “I bet you used to win all types of awards with that type of talent.”
“Yeah.” I forced a smile and stood up, thanking them for the chance to play.
James wrapped his arm around my shoulder and walked me back into the building, down to my floor.
“Are you going to take them up on their offer?” he asked.
“Not anytime soon,” I said. “I don’t have my cello anymore, and I don’t have the heart to buy another one.”
He raised his eyebrow, and I changed the subject.
For the rest of the night, he sat next to me and we worked in tandem, occasionally stopping for a kiss.
Around four in the morning, he set a fresh cup of coffee in front of me. “Still going strong, or will you need to take the rest of the day off?”
“I’ll be fine.”
He smiled, but it slowly faltered. “I need to ask you something, Kate.”
“Yes?” I hoped this was it, that he would finally allow me to tell him my side of the story.
“What happened to your cello?”
Close, but no cigar… “I had to pawn it,” I said, tears pricking my eyes. “I managed to hold onto it in almost every city, but I couldn’t afford it anymore in Philadelphia.”
“I’m sorry.” He moved next to me and caressed my back. “Why would you ever need to pawn anything, though?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I buried my head in his chest and tried to hold back the tears, but they fell down anyway. “I waited a very long time for you, James. All you had to do was come back…”
…
Kate
~ June 1, 2009 ~
THIS MAN WAS TOO GOOD to be true…
I stared into James’s eyes as we lay on the hood of his car. As usual, he’d picked me up at six this morning and it was now nearing dusk. I was trying to hold on to more time, stretching out the minutes as long as I could, so I wouldn’t have to go home.
