Page 80 of Blind Devotion
“What?” He already gave me the delicate gem-covered jewelry gracing my neck, which I couldn’t even fully enjoy the beauty of.
“You always wanted to be a musician. Do you still want that?”
We played together several times in the last few days. He even brought my violin up to his room. I played it during lulls in our lovemaking, reacquainting myself with an old friend, even if it wasn’t the same instrument. Music was a part of me, my happy place. I didn’t lose a moment’s love for it when my memories left me. If anything, that love came back stronger. The compositions never left me. I heard them in everything—heartbeats, footsteps, bird songs. It probably played a part in keeping my sanity intact while on that boat.
“Yes,” I said cautiously, careful to contain a hope I hadn’t expected.
“Good, because I’ve pulled some strings. A panel of juries at the Lyon National High Conservatory of Dance and Music is willing to meet you on the second of July for an inscription audition.”
I held my breath, speechless. My head fell between my cupped hands, trying to fight back the wave of emotion. He did this for me. Only me. A sob escaped me.
“Don’t cry. I meant it only as a gift. You don’t have to go.”
“I want to. I didn’t even realize how much I wanted this. You’re giving me back what I lost.” I laid my head on his shoulder as we walked, no longer anxious, only excited. “It’s the best gift you could’ve given me.”
We met his family in the dining room. They stood in a small procession, a thin but tall shape with wide shoulders at the front. I couldn’t make out a single feature with the faint eyesight from my left eye, but with the way I kept hearing this person shift from foot to foot, I guessed this was Thibault.
From what I remembered, he’d always been a bit of a powder keg with energy fit to burst, especially as a young teenager. One time, Adrien chased him through the garden because Thibault stole an origami piece Adrien had given me. They then fell into a grappling match, Thibault’s then twelve-year-old frame no match for Adrien’s nineteen-year-old fit shape. I tittered at the memory.
“What?” Adrien asked.
“Later.”
Thibault practically dove at me. I shrieked a little when he seized me into a bear hug and froze, expecting dread to cripple me. Surprisingly, it didn’t. Because he was familiar? Or was it the way he held me?
“You’re back,” he said, pulling back, his hands on my shoulder.
“Easy,” Adrien warned. “She’s still recovering.”
“Is that what she’s doing when you both are waking up the house at two a.m.?”
My eyes widened, my face flaring.
“Thibault…,” Adrien warned.
“Yeah, yeah. No face-breaking necessary. Just giving your girl the family welcome she should have had weeks ago.” Thibault tried to spin me around under his shoulder, but Adrien intervened, pulling me back to his side instead. “Jeez, the guy has no chill. You’ll work on that for me, right, Persy?”
“Tessa,” I corrected Thibault’s name choice. “Or Persetta. I’ve grown out of Persy.”
Maybe I’d start going by Persetta again. After all, it was the name my mother picked for me, combining the names of her grandmothers, Perla and Loretta.
“Excuse my brother. Thibault’s just excited because he’s leaving on a mission to Germany with my best team.”
“Excited? I’m fucking ecstatic. Fun doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
I could tell. He was practically bouncing in place like a kid in a candy store. Honestly, it felt weird that the two of us were only a year and a half apart.
“Are all of you as excited as he is about killing?” I asked as Adrien steered me toward the next person in line.
“Let’s call it the exuberance of innocent youth.”
Another man was next. I guessed him to be Erel, Adrien’s shadow, from what I remember. He’d been kind to me back then. Aside from that brief interruption days ago, he didn’t seem to have changed much. However, his size and posture were imposing, like a linebacker always ready to charge the quarterback at a moment’s notice.
There was nothing more than a short handshake exchanged between us and a clap to Adrien’s shoulder. That was more than fine with me. While Thibault’s familiarity didn’t bother me, I suspected that wouldn’t be the case with Erel.
Next was Adrien’s mother. From her, I expected the warmest welcome. My arms were already up and ready to wrap around her for when she pulled me close. Except she didn’t. She didn’t move at all, not one clip of a heel forward. A glacial wall stood between us, her perfume choice making it worse. It was almost spicy, tickling my nose, as if she had chosen it in preparation for battle.
“You could not have picked anyone else?” she said bitterly. “There are plenty good-looking women that will—”
