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TJ is standing in my doorway.
“I need to talk to security about who they let up these days.”
He raises his eyebrows. His expression is indifferent. I try to smile. Pretend that was a joke, which it was, sort of. I push the door open and he strolls in. I shake my head in exasperation. He smells too damn good.
“You look like hell,” he says.
“Thanks so much, right back at ya.” Which is a damn lie. He doesn’t look like hell. He could never. He looks as fantastic as ever.
“I hear you haven’t picked up the violin since the accident.”
“Fynn has a big mouth.”
“Fynn is worried about you.”
“There is no need for that and no need for you to be here.” But he is here, and it’s good to see him.
“Well, if you would answer my calls, then maybe I wouldn’t be…or maybe I would anyway, because like it or not, I care about you and I’m worried too.”
Worried? Me too, but I’ll never admit that to anyone. “Like I said, everything is fine. I’m still having some pain when I play, that’s all.”
“So you’ve tried playing?”
“Of course.” I turn away from him so he can’t see the lie. “Thanks for sending Brittany.”
TJ nods. I can’t lie about what she said. She said the same thing my own damn doctor said. That physically I’m fine. I look at my bent finger. It does hurt sometimes. That is to be expected, they said. When I play again, it will get sore. That’s nothing to worry about. When I play again.
TJ glances around the apartment. It looks like me at the moment. Disheveled. Out of sorts. Not put together and flawless, like usual. He’s searching for something. My violins aren’t here and he’s going to figure that out.
“Okay, let’s try again and this time the truth.” He turns and faces me.
I look at him, my irritation growing.
“What the hell is going on, Nandy?”
“Nothing, this is just harder than we thought it was going to be…I can’t just hop back out there like you can. This isn’t a game.”
TJ nods and rakes his hands through his hair.
“Okay, I’m going to chalk that remark up to stress. I get that.” He looks around the room and I follow his eyes. I know exactly what he is looking for.
“Where is it?”
“Where is what?”
He doesn’t answer me. I know what he means. TJ doesn’t hesitate to head to the bedroom. I lunge at him and grab his arm.
“Where are you going? They aren’t in there.”
TJ swings around and yanks his arm from me. “Then where?”
“At my parents.”
“Quit fucking lying to me.”
“I’m not. I’ve been spending more time up there with them, so my violins are there.” I haven’t touched them, I don’t add. But that is where they are.
“What the hell is going on?”
