Page 110 of A Wish for Us

Cromwell

Several weeks later…

I sat back in my seat, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. My chest was tight, but my heart beat like a heavy drum. Adrenaline rushed through me. A switch had flicked on within me the minute I came to Charleston several weeks ago. When I stepped into the rehearsal room and was faced with a fifty-piece orchestra. The orchestra that would be playing my music at the gala.

Music thatI’dcomposed.

I shook my head and took a drink of my Jack. I hadn’t drunk in weeks. Stopped smoking that day outside the hospital when I’d thrown my packet of cigarettes into the rubbish bin.

But I needed a few shots of Jack right now.

I got up, taking my Jack with me, and walked out of the dressing room and through the corridor into the theater. The sound of the door closing echoed around the vast space. I stared up at the painted ceiling and down to the rows and rows of red velvet seats. I made my way up onto the stage and moved to the front. I stared out over the theater, and my blood spiked with heat.

I focused on a spot in the center of the theater. The chair I’d reserved for Bonnie. Doubt sat like a lead ball in my stomach. I had barely spoken to her in all these weeks. Christmas and New Year’s had passed. She’d called me on Christmas Day, sounding like the old Bonnie. Her voice was strong, and she told me her heart was beating hard.

But I could hear the thick lacing of sadness in her voice. She’d barely asked about the music. My music. “I miss you, Cromwell,” she’d whispered. “Life just isn’t the same without you here.”

“I miss you too, baby,” I’d said in response. I’d paused. “Please come to the gala. Please…”

She hadn’t said anything to that. Even now, the night before the show, I didn’t know if she was coming. But she had to. She had to hear this piece.

I’d written it for her. Because of her. Everything in my life was now all about her.

I didn’t want it any other way.

I jumped off the stage and sat on the chair on the front row. I stared up at the theater, at the background that had been constructed for my performance. I sighed and took a long drink of the Jack.

I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of the theater. I remembered this smell. Lived for it.“You belong on that stage, son.”My father’s voice circled my head.“You’ll have them captivated the same way you do me”

The lump that always came to the surface clogged my throat. Then I felt someone drop down beside me. I opened my eyes and saw Lewis. He’d been with me all these weeks. He’d never left my side. Working with me day and night on my symphony. He hadn’t talked to me again about what I’d discovered. Just worked with me, composer to composer, synesthete to synesthete.

He understood me more than I ever could have known. He’d felt every note I’d played. And he felt every emotion my music tried to convey. And better still, he’d supported me when I decided to be different. My piece tomorrow night would divide opinion. I knew it. But it had to be done. It was the story I needed to tell, in the only way I knew how.

“You nervous?” Lewis spoke quietly, yet his voice echoed off the walls of the theater like thunder.

I sighed. I didn’t answer him at first but then said, “Not about the performance…”

“You want Bonnie to be here.”

I clenched my jaw. I wasn’t good at letting people in. With showing my emotions. But Lewis had seen me compose. He’d helped me all the way. He knew what my piece was about. There was no point in hiding it from him now.

“Yeah.” I shook my head. “Not sure she will be. Her mum is trying, but she’s still in a bad place.” My stomach dropped in sadness. “Deep down she loves music. But since Easton, it’s been lost, and she doesn’t know how to get it back.”

“She sees this,” Lewis said, pointing at the stage that tomorrow would be filled with a full orchestra, lights and…me, “she sees you on that stage, conducting a piece inspired by her, and she’ll see. Music will find its way to her again.” I turned to face him when he went quiet. “I’ve never seen or heard anything like what you’ve created, Cromwell.” Lewis’s voice was husky, and the sound of it made my stomach tense.

I’d been good these past several weeks. Managed to not think of the truth. Of who he was to me. The composing consumed me. My days and minutes were taken up by notes and strings and crescendos. But right here, right now, I couldn’t fight it even if I tried.

“You’re better than I am.” Lewis laughed. “It’s not easy for a composer to admit that. But it’s true…and it makes me so goddamned proud.” His voice broke off, and I had to grit my teeth together to stop the lump in my throat from growing. My pulse beat faster.

“I was selfish,” he said, his voice raspy. I gripped my bottle of Jack so tightly I was sure it would smash under my hand. Lewis ran his hand through his hair. “I was young and had the whole world at my feet.” He inhaled deeply, like he needed the break. “Your mama was someone I didn’t expect.” I dropped my eyes to stare at the floor. “She walked into my life like a tornado and knocked me on my ass.” My hand shook, the amber liquid sloshing around in the bottle. “And I fell in love with her. Not just a little bit either. She became my whole world.”

Lewis stopped speaking. His eyes were shut, his face pinched as if he was in pain. He kept his eyes closed as he said, “But I had my music…and I also had drink and drugs. Your mama didn’t know about that until later.” He patted his chest. “It was the emotions. They helped quell the emotions.”

I looked down at the Jack in my hand. I thought of how it was all I drank when I’d lost my dad. When it all became too much.

“My music was starting to get noticed, and the pressure built. And your mama stayed by my side, helping me by just being there and loving me.”I was frozen as he admitted that. I pictured my mum in my head. I tried to imagine her when she was young and carefree. She’d been so quiet and reserved my whole life. I struggled to understand her, but now I was starting to see it made sense. Lewis broke her heart. For the first time in years I felt like I knew her. Then I thought of Bonnie. Because Bonnie was that person for me. The one I let in. The one who helped me through the emotions when they became too much. The one who believed in me. The one who I’d tried to push away. But she’d stayed beside me. Right now, I felt sorry for Lewis, because he’d lost his Bonnie. My stomach fell as I thought of the distance between Bonnie and me now. The pain of it was unbearable.

“But the more the music consumed me, the more the alcohol and the drugs became the one real focus in my life.

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