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Ours was her first in-person contract since she’d given up fame and gone anonymous with her work. Taking that step to collaborate with an artist who might recognize her must have been challenging enough.
On that phone call, I should have told Raymond to pick someone else, anyone other than Scarlett, and moved on with my day. Now hindsight was biting me in the ass.
Determination to set things right flowed through me, guiding my hand to the door and pushing it open. I hopped out of the car, lungs burning with each unsteady breath I sucked in, and my heart twisted as if it wanted to run away from me.
My knuckles rapped against the front door, and heat crept over my cheeks. I hadn’t felt this nervous for our first date, but now my insides were lurching and knotting into an unrecognizable mass.
The door cracked open, and her tired voice bolted through me from head to toe. “Levi? What are you doing here?”
Diana’s purple hair was messily bundled atop her head. Red rimmed her darkened eyes, as if she’d been crying since she left my studio. She wore an oversized sweater and leggings.
She’d never looked more beautiful to me.
“I came to talk—to apologize,” I fumbled over my words.
Her brow knitted together, and the corner of her mouth dropped. Her hand tensed on the door, preparing to slam it shut. “Well, I’m not in the mood to talk.”
I tossed my foot out, wedging a black boot in her doorway as she’d tried shutting it. Peeking through the crevice, I rushed out. “Please, you don’t have to say anything. Just hear me out and listen. Please, Diana, I’m begging you.”
Seconds of brittle silence crept past us. Until finally, a relenting sigh greeted my ears, and the door swung open. She didn’t meet my eyes, instead choosing to glare at my boots. Yet she stepped back and gestured for me to enter her home.
A small victory, and hopefully the first of the night.
Clearing my throat, I entered the foyer. I swiped my hand over the back of my neck, unsure where to start. Meanwhile, Diana crossed her arms, standing out of arm’s reach.
“Uh, can I go in there?” I pointed to the double doors hiding her music room.
Diana’s eyes flared wider, and her brow crinkled in surprise. She briefly nodded, and I noticed the slow rise of her shoulders as she maintained control of her breathing.
I’d seen a glimpse of her music room the other night and remembered seeing an upright wooden piano nestled in the back corner. When I opened the door and found what I needed, I breathed a sigh of relief.
In a few long strides, I crossed the music room, briefly taking mental inventory of her impressive collection of equipment and musical instruments. She warily followed me, keeping her guard up.
With a broken exhale, I sat on the bench and flipped up the lid on the keys. I tested a few of the keys as Diana stood off to the side, watching me from a distance as if monitoring a wild animal in her home.
Satisfied with the piano, I faced her again. “You don’t have to say anything. All I need is for you to listen. You asked me to sing for you, and now I’m going to. Is that okay?”
Tentatively, her head dipped in a quick nod.
My fingers danced over the keys, and I brought forth the song I’d spent all night writing for her. I poured every ounce of emotion I carried in my body to the surface and hoped that Diana heard it.
And I sang, I sang my fucking heart out, pouring it all on the floor at her feet. I sang about her power over me. I sang about how she haunted me, mind, body, and soul. I sang that my eyes would always look for her, and that I would always want her.
As the last notes from the piano faded from the room, I lifted my head from the instrument to gauge her reaction. The tears on her cheeks and her quivering bottom lip punched all the air from my lungs.
I leapt up from the seat, gasping. “Diana?”
She sniffled. “What does that song mean, Levi?”
“I have all these feelings I’m not used to inside of me, and you’re making me feel them. Music is the only way I knew how to really get them out, and I needed you to hear it. Because I can apologize for what I asked until my face turns blue, but it’s meaningless without emotion,” I answered.
“I understand why you asked. I’m sorry for how I reacted.” Diana rubbed her sleeve under her eyes, catching the stream of tears.
“No,” I stepped closer, “don’t apologize for reacting to something that triggered your trauma. That was my fault.”
Diana’s opposite hand shot out and splayed over my chest, keeping me at bay. Her glistening eyes turned up to me. “My trauma isn’t an excuse to yell and scream at you, Levi.”
Reaching up, I carefully curled my fingers over her hand and pressed her palm over my pounding heart. “But I understand why you reacted that way and I didn’t take it personally. The fact I caused you to panic so intensely is what bothered me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
