Page 106 of A Wish for Us

And I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t fucking cope. I turned just as two security guards came toward me. I held up my hands. “I’m going. I’m going!” I risked a glance back at Bonnie, but her back was still to me. I started jogging down the corridor, but before I’d even made it out of the hospital I was at a full sprint. I made it to my truck, all the colors and emotions melding into one. My brain pulsed like a drum. My head ached, pressure behind my eyes so strong I could barely see.

Neon colors were fireworks in my brain, lighting up until I couldn’t take it. I slammed my truck into park and practically jumped from the car. I burst through the music building, no plan ahead, just following my feet. My fist pounded on a door.

The door flew open, and Lewis’s face was all I could see. I grabbed my head, and then, not caring if anyone heard, said, “I want to do the gala.”

Lewis’s mouth fell open, and I saw the shock on his face. I brushed past him and entered his office. “Bonnie got the heart.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Easton killed himself…” My voice broke, and sadness crashed over me like a tidal wave. I choked on the memory of the rope, the gurney…of Bonnie.

“Cromwell.” Lewis stepped closer.

I pushed out my hand. “No.” He stopped dead. “I came to you because no one else understands.” I hit my head with the heel of my hand. “You see what I see, feel what I feel.” I sucked in a breath. “I need help.” My hands fell away from me, my body starting to lose energy. “I need your help with the music. It’s building up. The colors. The patterns.” I shook my head. “The music is too much, too much at once, the colors too bright.”

Lewis came closer again. Just as he reached me, as he held out his hand, I stepped back. I saw his face. I saw the desperation. I saw the need to talk. Then my eyes tracked their way to the flask on his desk. The liquor. The dark circles under his eyes. “I’m not here for anything else.” He froze, then he pushed his hand through his hair. Just like I did. That was another crowbar to my gut. I choked on my voice, but managed, “I’m here for the music. I don’t want to talk about anything else. Just please…” My eyes dripped with tears. Bonnie’s rejection was spurring me on. If she heard my music, if I played the gala, she’d hear the music was for her. She’d see that I loved her. She’d see she had a life to live for.

With me.

Beside me.

Forever.

I lifted my eyes to Lewis. “Please…help me…” I tapped my head. “Help me put this down in music. Just…help me.”

“Okay.” Lewis ran his hand through his hair again. “But Cromwell, let me explain. Please, just hear me out—”

“I can’t,” I said, choking. “Not yet.” I shook my head, a cave tunneling in my chest. I tried to breathe, but it felt too hard. “I can’t cope with that too…not yet.”

Lewis looked like he wanted to reach for me. His hand was raised, but I couldn’t go there. Not yet. “Okay.” He met my eyes. “We have little to notime, Cromwell. You ready for this? It’ll be days and nights,endlessdays and nights, to get this where it needs to be.”

A sense of purpose so strong settled the storm within me. “I’m ready.” I sucked in a breath, and this time I could breathe. “I have it inside me, Professor. I always have.” I closed my eyes, thought of my dad, Bonnie, and the music that had tried to claw its way from my soul for too long. “I’m ready to compose.” A sudden shift in me seemed to calm my mind, my emotions. “I’m done with pushing it all away.”

“Then follow me.” Lewis led me to the music room he’d taken me to the night I’d found Easton, wrists slit, in our dorm room. I moved straight to the piano and sat down. My fingers found their place on the keys, and I opened my soul and let the colors fly.

Reds and blues, purples and pinks swarmed around me, engulfing me in a cloud. And I let them fall where they lay, my fingers showing me the way.

Azure.

Peach.

Ochre.

And violet blue.

I would forever chase the violet blue.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Bonnie

I stared at the letter in my hand. The letter I hadn’t been able to open for days now. My hands shook as I lifted the envelope to my nose. I inhaled the spiced scent that still clung to the paper. Easton. The familiar smell was a dagger to my heart.

Hisheart.

I pressed the letter to my chest and closed my eyes. The lump that had clogged my throat since I’d woken up swelled as I thought of Easton. His smile. His laugh. The way people were drawn to him like a magnet. Then that Easton washed away, leaving the sad version of my brother that sometimes took him over. The one who was bathed in black and gray paint, forlorn and so down not even the sunniest of days could raise his spirits.

“Easton,” I whispered as I ran my hand over my name on the envelope.

I glanced down at my black dress and black tights. I appealed to my soul to help me make it through, knowing what lay before me today. My first outing into the real world after my surgery.

The final goodbye to the brother who had saved my life. Who had been my life for so long, I wasn’t sure how to breathe without him. Music came from the nurses’ station beyond the door, and I heard the high-pitched notes of laughter.