“Are you okay?” I ask roughly, overcompensating for the emotion—and thus vulnerability—I felt moments before.
“Yes,” she replies, looking at me with red eyes. “These are tears of joy. I haven’t played this in years.”
I go to her and she gives me a hug. I just hold her for the longest time. When she finally pulls away, my shoulder is wet. I don’t care. I want to hold her and comfort her for as long as it takes.
She wipes the tears from her cheeks.
“Are you going to be all right?” I ask again.
She sniffles and nods slowly. “I just need a moment.” She smiles weakly. “My mother used to play this song, too.”
“Take as long as you need,” I tell her. “I have to use the big boy’s room anyway.”
I walk in front of the patio door, hoping to remind her that it’s open, then I leave the room.
If she’s going to run, now’s her best chance.
I walk down the hall and go to the bathroom. I close the door. And then I wait.
As expected, I don’t hear the piano play again. She’s made her choice.
She’s running.
I sit on the toilet seat and rest my chin in my hands. Well, of course she was going to run. What was I expecting? That she’d want to shack up with the gangster who kidnapped her? A man who openly brags about wanting to kill her father and brothers?
Ah, what an idiot I am. I can’t believe I actually thought she cared about me.
Fuck.
I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my rage. I can barely suppress the urge to stand up and run out there to look for her.
Let her go.
Finally, after five minutes, I stand. It’s done. She’s gone.
Now I’ll have to face my brothers and tell them I let her go.
I open the door and enter the hallway. Before I reach the main room, a new song begins to float through the air. Vivaldi’s Summer.
Another of Rosa’s favorites.
For a moment, I wonder if my sister has come home early.
Except… Rosa never played it like this. It’s an impossibly complex piece, and Rosa could play it at half speed, if that. What I’m hearing is almost virtuoso level.
When I enter the main room, I see Angela at the piano. She’s playing the song with a ferocity I’ve never seen before. She’s literally attacking the keys like they’re her enemy. And then when she reaches a quiet part, she barely touches them. It’s beautiful.
She’sbeautiful.
I find myself tearing up.
The music is a big factor in my reaction, yes. But also, she didn’t run. She could have, but she chose to stay.
As she continues to play, I find myself getting angry right along with her when she reaches the ferocious parts. I’m pissed off that her father would do this to her: taking away her piano when she’s obviously a musical genius. It makes me want to kill him all the more.
I’m angry about what he did to me. What he did tous.
I’m angry about all the years Angela and I should have had together, stolen, by him.
