Page 87 of Of Heartbreak and Harmony
“Oh, I rented it out. It’s just us this morning.”
I look up at him with wide eyes.
“You did what?”
“Ms. Chen is retired, so she’s not performing for large audiences anymore.”
I shake my head and my heart sinks. “I don’t understand. She’s not performing today?”
“She is. But it’s just for us.”
I stop walking once more, my mouth falling open silently. Torren laughs and gestures to the row of seats I stopped next to.
“Is this where you want to sit? We can go back down if you want? Or we can move closer?”
“How?”
“We don’t have assigned seats, Callie. We’re the only ones here.”
“No, I mean, how did you get her to come out of retirement to play for just us?”
“Oh, that.” He gives me another of those charming smiles. “Her granddaughter loves the band. I got her VIP tickets and a meet and greet tonight. Also, you know, I paid her, too.”
I can’t think of anything else to say, so I just nod. He laughs again.
“Let’s move just a little closer. I was told the front of the balcony is the best place for sound.”
I nod again and allow him to lead me to the front-most row of the balcony. Once I sit, he takes out his phone and sends a text.
“Just another few minutes. Are you excited?”
I scan his face. It’s hopeful in the most confusing, stomach-twisting way. Like maybe this whole date isn’t just for show. He put this together for me, he planned it out with care, and he wants me to enjoy it, so I give him an honest answer.
“I’m so excited that I’m trying not to cry.”
Torren’s smile softens as his green eyes bounce between mine. My skin prickles with awareness the longer he looks at me. When his gaze drops briefly to my lips, I resist the urge to lick them. Instead, I let the words on the tip of my tongue fall loose.
“Thank you, Torren.”
The lights dim, and I dart my attention to the stage. I feel him lean closer, his breath in my hair as he speaks.
“You’re welcome.”
The curtain opens then, revealing the most gorgeous white grand piano. I hear the tap of footsteps, and I can’t help but lean closer to the stage, pressing my hands to the balcony railing in front of me. When Constance Chen steps out from behind the curtain, tears well in my eyes. When she sits gracefully onto the piano bench seat and starts to play, the tears fall.
They don’t stop for her entire performance.
A steady stream of happy tears trails down my cheeks as she plays one perfect, beautiful piece after another. She plays with a level of finesse I’ve only ever dreamed of achieving. She possesses a comfort I’ve never been after to master.
Constance Chen belongs behind a piano.
She was born to play.
She was born to be the best.
She’s absolutely brilliant. A true artist. And as she plays, I let myself float along on the music, reveling in the realization that I am in the presence of greatness. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. My eyes fall shut, absorbing as much of the sound into my body as possible. Committing every single note to memory.
I will never, ever forget this.
