Page 72 of A Wish for Us

I stared Lewis straight in the eyes. “I want to give her music.Haveto.” I tapped my head. “Already, it’s building up in me, like my heart knows what it has to do for her. It has to give her what she needs so she can fight—hope.” Nervous energy swirled inside, making it impossible to sit still. I started pacing in front of his desk. “I keep hearing melodies. Keep hearing the different sections—string, woodwind, brass—playing the same music, showing me their color pattern. Mapping out the way for me in my head. It’s pressing at my brain. I need to get it out.”

Lewis was watching me, his coffee abandoned on his desk. “I know what that’s like.”

“You do?”

He pointed to the photo of him conducting. “That piece, my most famous, was born from losing someone I loved. From being robbed of a lifethat should’ve been mine.” He walked to the photo and stared up at himself. “I lost the one I loved through my own stupidity. All that was left was the music that never quieted. I had to write. The notes and melodies haunted me until I did.” He huffed a laugh. “Then, once it was done and out in the world, the symphony haunted me for the rest of my life. Still does.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t play that piece of music. Even now. All these years later. Because it reminds me of what I could have had, who I could have loved, the life I could have lived if I hadn’t been so messed up.”

Lewis came beside me and tentatively laid his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t let her go if she means that much to you, Cromwell. Bonnie needs you now, more than ever.” He stared vacantly at the wall. “This could be something special that only you can give her. Music, Cromwell. It can be both a healer and a comfort. If you care for her, like I’m assuming you do, you have the gifts to make this time truly memorable for her. And I can’t say that about anyone else but you.” Lewis checked the time. “We have a class, Mr. Dean.”

I got up from my seat and headed for the door. “Thanks.”

Lewis gave me a tight smile. “If you need me, Cromwell, I’m here.”

I headed to the classroom and stopped dead in the doorway. Bonnie sat in her seat, staring at her notepad. I looked right at her, just drinking her in. I didn’t care who saw me. She was dressed in jeans, as always, this time with a pink jumper, and her hair was in a messy bun. In this moment, I didn’t think I’d ever seen anyone more beautiful.

The clearing of a throat snapped me back to the moment. Lewis was behind me. I took a deep breath and walked into the classroom. Bonnie lifted her head, and her face paled. Her eyes watched me as I walked up the stairs. They were shining. She was worried about what I’d do; I could see that. I could see the guilt on her face, in the tensing of her slight frame.

I stopped at her seat. Not giving one shit about the other students in the class, I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers. Bonnie didn’t even try to pull away. She just melted into me like she knew where she belonged.

I broke the kiss and sat beside her, taking her hand and pulling it onto my lap. I faced Lewis at the front of the class. A small smile appeared on his face, before he turned and wrote something on the board. I brought mygaze back to Bonnie and the flush on her cheeks. Students were talking in whispers and looking our way.

They could damn well look.

Bonnie ducked her head then glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “Farraday,” I said. Her eyes filled with tears. The sight was a damn crowbar to my chest.

Then she smashed it wide open when she whispered, “Dean.”

I gripped her hand tighter as Lewis started the class. I never let her go through the whole lesson. I made no notes, but I didn’t care. Holding Bonnie was more important than anything right now.

* * *

When class was done, I released Bonnie only long enough for her to get her things. Taking her hand again, I led her slowly down the stairs and out into the corridor. She let me lead her through the building and toward the practice rooms.

Her feet faltered, and I held her tightly. Now that I was aware of what she was going through, I picked up on things that I hadn’t before. She walked heavily; the beat of her foot hitting wood sounded like a drum in my ears. Her short breaths were sharp bursts of irregular rhythm that felt out of sync with the brightness she exuded.

The sounds were dark colors in my head. Colors I didn’t like to see. Especially on Bonnie.

I brought us into a practice room and sat her down on a chair, pressing my lips to hers before dragging over the piano stool and sitting before her.

Her huge brown eyes were on me. She was nervous. I could tell by her fidgeting hands.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her face. It was as if ever since I found about her heart, I couldn’t stop noticing just how beautiful she was. I must have stared longer than I realized, because she tucked some loose hair behind her ear and whispered, “Cromwell.”

I blinked, ripping myself from my thoughts. Bonnie wore a worried expression. I reached out for her hand. Her focus dropped to our fingers.“We’re going to work together again,” I said, and her head snapped up. “On Lewis’s composition.”

“Cromwell.” She shook her head sadly.

I ran my free hand over the thigh of my jeans. “I want to play again.” I closed my eyes and could see the colors sparking back to life, growing more vibrant as I allowed that truth to hit home. Bonnie squeezed my hand. I opened my eyes. “I want to play because of you.”

“Me?”

I got on my knees, on the floor, my eyes level with hers. I cupped her face and felt my lip hook up. “Because you, with your questions and tenacity, made damn sure that I faced some shit I didn’t want to face. You pushed and pushed until I couldn’t turn away from it anymore. You pushed until I found myself in here, in the practice rooms, picking up instruments I hadn’t touched in three years.”

I kissed her forehead. “I fought against it. Fought against you. But when I saw you at that coffee house, singing, just you and your voice and your acoustic guitar, I finally saw something in you I hadn’t seen before—kinship. You loved music as much as I did. But unlike me, you weren’t afraid to show the world.” My stomach clenched. “Now I know…everything… My need to play again is just…more.”

Bonnie shook her head, ready to argue. I cut her off before she could. “You make me want to make music again, Farraday. Let me do this with you.”

Her eyes dropped. “Cromwell,” she said softly, “things will get worse.” I held my breath. “A lot worse. You have a life. You have a chance to create something great alone.” She swallowed and looked dead into my eyes. “I will only hold you down. You don’t need to do this for me.” She smiled a self-deprecating smile. “I won’t be able to compose anything that is worthy of your time. I’m driftwood to your tall ship.”