Page 96 of Shattered Melodies

As I worked, my mind drifted to the conversation I’d had with Caleb the day before. It had been intense. Overwhelming, in a way that I hadn’t felt in years. Like all the walls I’d built up, all the defenses I’d put in place to protect my heart they were crumbling, brick by brick.

And it scared me. Scared me more than I wanted to admit, more than I knew how to put into words. Because as much as I wanted this, wanted him I was terrified of getting hurt again. Of opening myself up, of letting him in, only to have it all come crashing down around me like it had before.

I didn’t know if I could survive that kind of heartbreak again. Didn’t know if I had the strength to pick up the pieces, to put myself back together and start all over. But at the same time I couldn’t deny what I felt for him. Couldn’t pretend that the spark between us, the connection that had always been there, wasn’t real and true and undeniable.

I loved him. Had always loved him, even when I was too angry and hurt and lost to admit it to myself.

And now, with him here, with the chance to start over and build something new and beautiful from the ashes of our past, I wanted to take it. Wanted to grab onto it with both hands, to hold on tight and never let go.

I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and started to sing. A soft, gentle melody that I’d written years ago, when the pain of losing him was still fresh and raw.

It was a song about love, about the kind of connection that never really goes away, no matter how hard you try to bury it or forget.

As I sang, my voice echoing softly in the barn, I felt a shift in the air. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I knew I wasn’t alone anymore. I turned, my heart skipping a beat when I saw Caleb standing there, watching me with a soft smile on his face.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, his voice low and warm. “That was beautiful.”

I felt my cheeks heat up, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s nothing special. Just something I wrote a while back.”

Caleb shook his head, taking a step closer. “It’s more than special, Liam.”

I snorted, trying to brush off the compliment. “Yeah, right. You’re just saying that because you haven’t heard me sing in years.”

“No, I mean it,” he insisted, his eyes serious. “There’s something raw and honest about the way you sing. It’s like you’re pouring your whole soul into every note.”

I swallowed hard, feeling exposed in a way I hadn’t in years. Because he was right. When I sang, when I let the music flow through me, it was like laying my heart bare for the world to see.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, not sure what else to say.

Caleb must have sensed my discomfort because he changed the subject. “So, what brought on the impromptu concert? Peanut being fussy again?”

I glanced down at the kitten, who was now curled up at my feet, fast asleep. “Yeah, she was having a hard time settling down. Music usually helps.”

“Well, it certainly worked its magic,” Caleb chuckled. Then, to my surprise, he held out his hand. “Care to dance?”

I blinked at him, thrown by the sudden offer. “Dance? Here? Now?”

He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Why not? The mood’s right, we’ve got music. Well, if you keep singing, that is.”

Caleb started humming the melody of the song I’d been singing, and before I knew it, I was reaching for his hand.

“Ah, what the hell,” I muttered. “Why not?”

Caleb’s grin widened as he pulled me close, one hand settling on my waist while the other held mine. We started swaying gently, our bodies falling into a familiar rhythm that felt like coming home.

I picked up the song where I’d left off, my voice a little shaky at first but growing stronger as we moved together. Caleb joined in on the chorus, his rich baritone blending perfectly with my tenor.

As we danced and sang, I felt something loosen in my chest. A knot of tension I hadn’t even realized I’d been carrying started to unravel. For the first time in years, I felt light. Free.

We spun around the barn, narrowly avoiding hay bales and farm equipment. At one point, Caleb dipped me dramatically, making me yelp in surprise.

“Careful!” I laughed, clutching at his shoulders. “I’m not as flexible as I used to be.”

Caleb waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Oh really? That’s not what I remember.”

I felt my face flame, a mix of embarrassment and something else, something hotter and more dangerous. “Shut up,” I grumbled, giving him a half-hearted shove.

He just laughed, pulling me back in close. We kept dancing, even after the song ended, just swaying together in comfortable silence.

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