Page 128 of Cadence
Please say this isn’t goodbye.
The thought almost chokes me, but then her hand touches my cheek, her lower lip trembling as she draws my face back to hers. I lean down, kissing her lips before moving to her chin, her jaw and finally, her cheek, kissing the tear away, right from her skin.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “I’ve always got you.”
She doesn’t cry again, not with tears, but the way she clutches me closer, the way she moves with me… It’s all there. All the pain, the forgiveness, the need to be whole again.
We move together slowly, wordless and helpless, breathing each other in.
I don’t take my eyes off her, not for a second, and when she comes apart beneath me, gaze locked to mine, mouth open in a quiet gasp, I follow her, like I always do.
Like I always will.
I brush back her hair from the side of her head, the damp strands darker now. We stay like that, breaths mingling, hearts pounding like they’re trying to sync. Leaning down, I press a final kiss to her lips, a promise, then ease out of her, not wanting to break the spell.
She exhales, long and shaky, her eyes still on me as I shift onto my back and pull her into me. She comes without hesitation, curling into my side like she did the night I left, thinking I’d never get to have this again.
But she’s here, in my arms, and she fits.
I wrap my arm tighter around her waist, tucking her closer, and press my lips into her hair. She leans in without a word, and even with the weight of everything still hanging between us, I know one thing for sure; I’m never letting her go.
Not now.
Not ever.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Maddox
It’sironic,wakingupalone like this, the sinking gut feeling when my hand stretches out instinctively, reaching for her, only to find the other side of the bed cold. Nothing but rumpled sheets and the faintest trace of her left behind.
Shit.
I sit up, dragging a hand over my face, wondering what to do now. Clearly, last night meant more to me than her, and where I thought it was the start of something, it was actually a goodbye.
The early morning light slants through the half-open blinds, the ones I couldn’t bring myself to touch after days of lingering regret was all I could feel, and a thought cuts sharp against the sudden twist in my chest.
This is what I did to her.
I left her before, disappeared without warning, and maybe now this is her version of that. This is just me getting exactly what I gave her, and I deserve it.
Shoving out of bed, I grab a clean pair of boxer briefs and head out into the hallway. I’m halfway to the staircase, about to head downstairs when I hear it. Music, soft and melodic, the achingly beautiful sounds of a piano coming from deeper in the house.
It’s muffled, drifting from the spare room, but the melody moves through me like a tether, pulling me toward it. Toward her. The notes grow louder, clearer with each step, every key struck with purpose. It’s something classical, delicate and longing, the name lost to me now, but I recognize it.
Something visceral unfurls in my gut the closer I get, the kind of ache that lives in a beautiful memory. My grandma sitting at the piano, playing this song when I was a kid, the sun shining through the window, her eyes closed as she smiles.
The door is half open, light spilling from the gap, painting the hardwood floor in a warm amber. I push it open, my breath caught in my throat at the sight of her in the same place as my grandmother, wearing nothing but my shirt.
It hangs off her, the sleeves coming to her elbows, the hem brushing her thighs. Her hair’s a little messy, sex tousled and from sleep, and something fast and sweet smacks in my chest at the image before me, her sitting like this, in my space, looking likehome.
She’s barefoot, her feet pressing onto the pedals in front of her, eyes closed, fingers gliding over the keys, the music quietly filling the room, the melody spilling straight from her bones.
Like the drums, she’s not just playing. She’s feeling every single note.
For a second, I don’t dare to breathe as I stand and watch her, leaning against the doorjamb. I’ve never seen anything so heartbreakingly beautiful.
Not wanting to disturb her, I step into the room quietly. She doesn’t notice me until I slide onto the bench beside her, leaning in and pressing my lips to her shoulder, just beneath the collar of my shirt.
