Page 120 of Serpent & Saviors

As we approached, he paused, his hand on the doorknob. The air cracked with anticipation. With a gentle push, he opened the door, revealing the room. It was bathed in the soft glow of the chandelier. I gasped, my heart seizing inside my chest. I shook my head.

“We talked…why are you doing this?”

“It belongs to you, to our son. It belongs here in our home. The history it holds is yours and yours alone. Not a living soul on this earth knows the significance it held for your grandmother, your mother, but you. It’s your job to ensure our son knows its importance.”

“I can’t, Andrew.” I took a tentative step back.

The familiar scent of polished wood, the ivory and black keys called to me, taunting me almost. A swell of emotions tightened my chest. No matter how much I didn’t want to, my eyes were firmly fixed on the piano before me.

“Isabella told me you made a declaration to Winter that you’d never play again,” he said, his words delicate and light. “But I also know the healing power music holds. Just like dance does for Kinsley and painting is for Isabella. You continue to deny the small girl inside you the control and power she needs by distancing yourself from her. It’s time, Victoria.”

“Andrew, this is unnecessary. Please.”

My heart beat erratically as he took my hand and pulled me closer.

“Sit,” he commanded, blocking my path. His long finger pointed to the piano bench. I stubbornly refused.

“Young lady, don’t make me repeat myself.”

That was all it took. His tone was firm and commanding—controlled. It rippled through me like fire. I sighed and flounced down on the piano bench, crossing my arms like Declan did when he didn’t get his way. His lip quirked in a half smile. My heart lodged in my throat.

I won’t play no matter what. I won’t do it; he can’t make me. Oh, who am I kidding? After everything this man had done for me, he could make me do anything.

I was on the verge of something, something so intense I thought I might pass out. My thoughts were everywhere and nowhere. And he let just enough time go by before speaking.

“Talk to me.” His voice was soft and sweet.

Tears welled up in my eyes. I knew what he was doing. He was so good at it. His nature was to help, and he wouldn’t let it go. The black and white keys called my name. It had always fascinated me—the difference in the starkness of the two colors, the cold and smooth texture of the ivory.

It didn’t matter what was going on. The minute my fingers began playing a song, it was as if a million colors burst forth in my mind. The tears finally cascaded down my cheeks. Andrew’s hands kneaded the tight muscles of my shoulders.

I loved the piano, and I longed to play. My fingers ached, and I sucked in large breaths, trying to control the erratic beat of my heart. Sitting there on the edge of the seat, trying to conceal the passion burning inside me was impossible.

“Touch it. Winter will understand. Play for me.”

Even though he whispered it, it was a command my brain filtered, and a peacefulness engulfed me. My eyes closed, and I put my fingers on the keys, and a sob escaped from deep within. Every emotion I’d stuffed inside all these years came pouring out.

“What would you like to hear?” I whispered, committing myself in the moment.

“Play something that tells me how you are feeling right now.”

I nodded, watching as the light from the fire cut across his handsome face. I only realized this was planned. He knew he’d bring me here tonight. His eyes pierced mine, and his demeanor switched.

I flexed my fingers and closed my eyes, trying to ignore his gaze. All it did was make me self-conscious. My foot reached out and hovered slightly over the rightmost pedal.

Could I do it? Did I still know how?

Chopin’s Prelude in B Minor, Op. 28, number 6, flowed from my fingers. The brooding pensiveness started with the opening chord. The sound from this magnificent piano overwhelmed me to the point where tears flowed not even ten seconds in. At that moment, there was only me and the music. A haunting sound emerged. The notes rose in arpeggio.

They climbed from the deepest, darkest part of the piano’s register to match my heart. The whole prelude was barely two minutes long. Even so, it created that feeling of reaching up toward the light, only to come crashing back to where it came from.

My right hand played the unfaltering, repeated musical rhythm reminiscent of a tolling bell that stopped as the soft notes closed the piece. The emotions cut off abruptly, almost a complete reflection of my childhood. I chose this one not only for how it matched my mood but also because of the shortness.

My body flowed along with the notes as somehow my fingers seemed to fall into the melody of a story. A story of pain and sorrow. I poured out my despair in a fervor, telling the piano the deepest fears of my heart, and it played a tune back that resonated so deep inside me I was transported somewhere magical.

Each press of a key, perfectly timed, dove into the pit of my stomach, and a beautiful harmony was created as my heart was released from deep emotional bondage. I could calmly and objectively see and acknowledge what was happening, and as I finished the song, I felt cleansed somehow, completely released from the struggle.

In the silence of the room, the only thing that could be heard was my breathing. Andrew’s hands gathered my hair and pulled it back from my face. I let out a sob, removing my hands and placing them in my lap. And then he was there. Even though my eyes were shut tight, his presence wrapped around me like a warm blanket.