Page 108 of Composed
“Yup.” I squeeze my fingers as my pulse throbs. “I went to the show. Then I finished the song that night. I don’t know why, I just couldn’tnotfinish it.”
“Why did you never tell me?”
“I planned to. I was going to give it to you one day but I never found the courage to reach out—”Because doing so meant letting you go. “So it’s just sat in my guitar case all these years, gathering dust.”
Air hisses through his lips at my admittance.
His grip tightens on my wrists, his thumbs dragging circles around them.
I’m not even sure he knows he’s doing it.
“Rixie, let me ask you something.”
I peer up at him.
His eyes burn into me. “What’s the last song you wrote?”
“Do you really need me to say it?” I whisper.
“Why did you lie?” His forehead knots, the corners of his mouth creasing. “When I asked you on the phone, you said—”
“That it wasn’t anything you’d know.” I drop my shoulders. “It wasn’t a lie exactly. It just wasn’t…”
“The whole truth.” He sighs, releases my wrists, and shuffles backwards. “You haven’t written since then?”
“Nope. Not until now.”
“Why?” He scrubs a hand down his face. “What happened, Rixie?”
“Life happened. Things changed,Ichanged.”
“So why are you here now?” He shoots to his feet. “If this really isn’t what you do anymore, why did you agree to do this with me?”
I push my fingers through the carpet. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“Yeah?” A choked laugh bursts from him. My heart tugs when he spins on his heels, storms to the door, and drags it open. “Too fucking late for that.”
It slams shut behind him.
I sit frozen, ears ringing.
I’m not sure why he’s so angry. Is it because I finished the song without him, or because our final song is the one that finished me?
I lay back against the carpet and stare up at the swaying lightbulb above me.
I always knew it was selfish to keep it from him. It was as much his as it was mine. He deserved the closure I never gave him. But giving him the song, meant giving away the only unfinished piece of us I had left.
I justcouldn’t.
I sit up, grab my phone with trembling fingers, and tap out a text to Riley.
Can you do me a huge favour?
Chapter thirty-three
Hendrix • Now
Hold On – Good Charlotte
