Chapter 5

　　Eva's POV

　　I told my parents my decision over breakfast. The personal matters could wait. I had a piano tour coming up, and I was going to focus on that and nothing else until it was done.

　　My mother looked at me with that worried expression she gets when she knows I'm not okay but pretending to be fine.

　　My father nodded once and went back to his coffee.

　　I threw myself into preparation completely, rehearsals, fittings, meetings with my manager, calls with the tour coordinators. I filled every hour religiously and went to bed exhausted every night, and told myself this was exactly what I needed.

　　On the third day, I went to the practice room.

　　It was early, before the rest of the house had properly woken up. I pushed the door open and stopped.

　　Julian was sitting on the bench in front of a new piano that had not been there the last time I was here.

　　He looked up when I walked in. He looked terrible. Like he hadn't slept in days.

　　There were roses on every surface, fresh red, filling the room with a scent that I would have loved on any other day.

　　"How did you get in here?" I asked.

　　"The guards wouldn't let me through the front." He said.

　　"I've been trying for three days. I figured if I came around the back way and waited long enough, you'd show up eventually." He glanced at the piano.

　　"I had it brought in two days ago. Custom-built. I remembered you said the action on the old one was too heavy."

　　I looked at the piano. It was beautiful. Julian had always paid attention to those details, the things I mentioned once in passing and never expected anyone to hold onto.

　　"Julian." I set my sheet music down and kept both hands wrapped around my coffee cup. "You can't keep doing this."

　　"I know you don't want to see me." He stood up slowly. "I'm not here to pressure you. Just hear me out once. That's all I'm asking."

　　I didn't say anything. He took that as permission.

　　"I was wrong," he said. "I'm not going to dress it up or explain it away. I hid something from you that I had no right to, and I hurt you deeply." He looked straight at me. "But Eva, what I feel for you has nothing to do with any of that. That has always been real."

　　"Julian, don't."

　　"I don't want to dissolve this bond."

　　"Stop—"

　　"I'll send them abroad. Cynthia and the boy are somewhere with everything they need. Good care, good schools, whatever it takes. They won't be here. You won't have to see them or think about them. I'll handle all of it."

　　I looked at him. I really looked at this man I had loved for years, standing in my practice room surrounded by roses, and I felt the full weight of what he was asking me to do.

　　"You think sending them away fixes it," I said.

　　"It's a start."

　　"A start." I set my coffee down before I said something I couldn't take back.

　　"Julian, your son walked into our ceremony and called you dad in front of everyone we know. Your son. Who has been alive for five years?

　　You had been visiting them this whole time while I was planning our future and believing everything was fine."

　　My voice cracked slightly on the last word, and I hated it. "You can send them to the other side of the world, and that doesn't go away. I can't unsee it. I can't unfeel it."

　　"I know that."

　　"Do you? Because you're standing here talking about fresh starts like I just need a little time and then everything goes back to normal."

　　"That's not what I'm saying."

　　"Then what are you saying?" I looked at him directly. "What exactly are you asking me to do here?"

　　He opened his mouth and closed it. He looked down at the floor for a moment, and when he looked back up, there was something raw in his face that he wasn't trying to hide.

　　"I'm asking you not to give up on us," he said quietly.

　　"That's all. I'm not asking you to be okay with it right now. I'm not asking you to forgive me today. I'm just asking you not to end it…us"

　　I couldn't take his words because part of me, the part I had been working very hard to stay quiet, wanted to say yes…wanted to reach for the version of this where love was enough to cover everything else.

　　But I kept seeing him walk away from that altar. I kept seeing his arm around her in that hospital room, instinctive and easy, like he had done it a hundred times before. Because he had.

　　"I can't give you that," I said. "I'm sorry. I can't."

　　He was quiet for a moment. He nodded slowly, and I could see him absorb it, feel him decide not to push any further.

　　"Okay," he said.

　　The room settled into silence.

　　Then he said, "Will you come with me to see my grandmother?"

　　I looked up, a bit taken aback.

　　"She's been asking about you," he said. "For weeks, actually, before any of this happened. Her good days are getting fewer, and the doctors think..."

　　He stopped, pressed his mouth together briefly. "I don't know how many more lucid visits she has left. She loves you, Eva."

　　I did know that.

　　Elena Sterling was eighty-three years old and had more personality than people half her age. The first time Julian brought me to visit her, I was seventeen and completely intimidated by her sharp eyes and sharper tongue. She had seen right through it immediately.

　　"Stop standing there like you're waiting to be dismissed," she had said. "Sit down and tell me something interesting."

　　I had laughed before I could stop myself, and she had decided we were friends on the spot.

　　After that, she pulled me aside at every family gathering to share her opinions on whoever was in the room, called me at eleven at night once to tell me she had heard my concert recording and that I had better not waste that kind of talent.

　　She sent me a birthday card every year without fail. Last year it said simply, "Still watching. Don't disappoint me."

　　I had it on my desk at home.

　　The thought of her in a hospital bed, her mind drifting in and out, not knowing how many clear days she had left, sat heavy in my chest. That had nothing to do with Julian and everything to do with her.

　　"Okay," I said. "For her, just for her."

　　He nodded. "I know."

　　"And it doesn't change anything between us."

　　"I know that too." He picked up his jacket. "Thank you, Eva."

　　I didn't answer. I looked at the roses on every surface, at the piano built specifically for me sitting there untouched.

　　I picked up my sheet music.

　　"I'll be ready in an hour," I pointed to the rose, piano, and said. "Also, please take your trash with you."