Page 37 of The Sound of Forever
I close my eyes, the tension in my body slowly unwinding. For the first time in a long time, I feel . . . still. Not just physically, but emotionally. It’s a strange sensation, like I’ve found a moment of peace in the middle of this place, with her.
When the session ends, neither of us moves right away. The silence between us feels less like an emptiness and more like a connection.
“Thank you,” I say finally, my voice rough.
“You did the work. I just showed you the way.” Julianna smiles.
As we roll up our mats, I catch her gaze and hold it for a moment longer than I mean to.
“Maybe we could do this again sometime,” I say, surprising myself with the suggestion.
She nods, her smile widening. “I’ll be here all week, just swing by. The door is always open.”
“Thank you,” I say, and begin to walk.
Then she calls out, “Keane?”
“Yeah?” I halt, looking over my shoulder.
“Every time you start blaming yourself for . . . well, anything, just repeat, ‘I forgive myself. The past won’t change, but I have.’” She smiles, this time it’s gentle.
Have I really changed? Instead of telling her she’s wrong I only answer, “I’ll remember that.” But then I wonder if that’s her way of telling me that I have to forgive myself.
Did I move on? I thought so, but maybe I just figured out a few things. But I haven’t forgiven myself for all the damage I’ve done. Have I?
ChapterForty
Julianna
The lavender shopsmells like a dream—soft floral notes mingling with earthy sweetness, a scent so calming it feels like it could wrap itself around you and pull you into a long-overdue nap. The polished wooden shelves are lined with jars of dried herbs, essential oils, and handmade soaps, each neatly labeled in Nydia’s careful handwriting. Even the air here feels soothing, like it’s holding you close in a warm hug, whispering,It’s okay to breathe.
Behind the counter, Nydia is focused on tying small bundles of lavender and eucalyptus with pale ribbons. Her hands move with practiced precision, the kind that comes from loving what you do. When the bell over the door jingles, she glances up, her dark eyes softening as she sees me.
“Hey, Jules,” she greets with a smile that feels like an old friend reaching out. “Surprised you finally made it into the shop. How can I help? You need lavender to help you sleep?”
I laugh lightly, though the sound feels a bit forced. “I still have plenty of . . . well, everything, from the last time you visited,” I say, my gaze drifting to a shelf filled with stuffed bunnies. One in particular catches my eye, its soft gray fur and floppy ears giving it an almost forlorn look.
Would it be okay to buy one for Rayne? Probably not. She might just toss it in the trash and tell me how much she hates me. Maybe I could do it later when she’s more open to the world. We could give a little rest to Fufu Floppy before the poor thing ends up in rags.
“How’s Rayne doing? Motherhood still kicking your ass?” Nydia doesn’t even look up from her work as she speaks, tying another bundle with care. “Manelik’s offer still stands, by the way. He’ll fly someone in to help if you need it.”
One of these days I’m going to ask her why the guy has access to private jets and helicopters. Also, people who can do almost everything he needs. Sure, he’s in a band—a very famous band. Still, do they have so much money for all that?
“Thank you,” I say, setting my backpack on a nearby stool and letting out a sigh. “I’m mentally exhausted. The Friday at noon class is always a nightmare. I had three beginners—tourists, of course—who were more interested in chatting than actually doing the poses. Not sure why the visitors think yoga is part of the town’s attraction.”
“You have the patience of a saint,” Nydia says, shaking her head as she ties a final bow. “Tea?”
“Please,” I reply, sinking onto a stool by the counter, my shoulders sagging.
She disappears into the back corner, where an electric kettle sits. In minutes, she returns with a steaming mug and places it in front of me before leaning on the counter, her expression expectant. “Now,” she says, her tone firm but kind, “are you really going to tell me how you’re doing?”
I wrap my hands around the mug, letting the warmth seep into my palms. “Not sure,” I admit after a moment. “I’m still trying to figure out how to help Rayne. I hoped moving to Luna Harbor would help her . . . but so far, things are the same. I’m constantly worried she’s going to run off into the woods one day and not come back.”
Nydia nods, her brow furrowing slightly. “I don’t think she’d do that, but if it makes you feel better, I can have Manelik set up cameras in your backyard.”
“That might not be a bad idea,” I say, though the thought of resorting to surveillance leaves me feeling overbearing. “Maybe a tracker too, just in case. I mean . . . her mom used to leave and not come back until the next day. What if she’s just like Elena?”
“You’re talking about teenage Elena,” Nydia counters, her tone firm. “Rayne’s a little girl who’s grieving the loss of the only person who loved her unconditionally.”
