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Slowly, I start back up again. “I’ll play it for you any time you want me to.”

So I play.

Hell, I’d play forever if she asked me to.

And Stasi rests her head back against my shoulder, warm and vibrant andhere. Even as she feels like she’s slipping through my fingers.

I don’t ask.

And the tears… they don’t stop.

24 – Kit

Ijerk awake, thrashing and sweating against my bedsheets.

The image of Stasi’s tears ingrained into my memories.

How many more times did she cry, when I wasn’t there?

Ten years of dreaming of her, and it never gets any easier. Butthis, this recollection of our first night together in my music room, feels too real. Too painful to make closing my eyes easier.

So I slip from my bedroom, heading downstairs and pushing open the door.

Even here, I can see her. See her sat on the stool in front of my piano. See her leaning over the instrument, see her dancing around it.

Th ghosts of our past surround me. Each one a painful reminder of how far away we are from the future I once dared to dream about.

Anastasia is built into every part of who I am. I wonder if she even realizes how much she shaped the person I am today.

Through her laughter, and her joy.

Through her smile.

And through her absence.

I slowly walk over to the piano. My fingers trail over the keys.

“Kit.”

I whirl at the soft whisper, unsure if I’m dreaming. A small silhouette is framed in the doorway, shadowed in the dim light.

She steps into the room, almost a replica of ten years ago.

But this Stasi is older. Her eyes look tired, weighted down from the time we’ve spent apart, and the toll of the last few months.

I’m tired, too. Tired of pretending that I haven’t needed her here, every second that shewasn’t.

Tired of pretending that I don’t need her still.

She lifts one hand to rub at her arm. Uncertain, as she glances around. “I’m sorry to disturb you.”

“You have never disturbed me.” I let the words go, let them float across the room to her. “Except when you weren’t here.”

She takes a breath. “Kit.”

“Why did you leave me, Stasi?”

I have never asked her outright. But I’m done with dancing around this. Around us.