There it is—the beautiful grand piano, sitting in the dimly lit room, its black surface gleaming under the gentle light. I sit down on the plush bench, my hands hovering over the keys for a moment as I take several deep breaths.
I wish Grey were here.
Each inhale grounds me further, pulling me away from the day’s chaos and centering me in the here and now. With a final exhale, I close my eyes and let my fingers find the first notes.
In moments, the world narrows down to the sounds filling the room—the rich tones of the piano mingling with the rhythm of my heartbeat and the cadence of my breathing. The melody is familiar, a piece I’ve turned to time and time again when the world has become too much. Each note vibrates through me, anchoring me back to myself.
It’s therapeutic, this blending of sound and sensation, and I feel the edges of my anxiety smooth as I lose myself in the music. For these precious minutes, nothing else matters—there’s only my heartbeat, my breath, and the music.
As the last delicate notes fade into the air, silence envelops the room once more. I linger at the piano for a brief moment longer, fingers resting lightly on the cool keys.
From behind me, a voice breaks the stillness, warm and approving. “I told you she’s amazing,” Mr. Donovan says.
I turn with a start and find him standing in the doorway, his eyes bright with appreciation. Beside him, Morgan gives me a conspiratorial grin.
“She is indeed,” she agrees, stepping closer.
They move to flank me at the piano, and Peanut trots over beside them with a joyful wag of his tail. He plants himself next to me, leaning heavily against my side, and I reach out to stroke his head.
“What piece was that, dear? It’s beautiful, but I don’t know it,” Mr. Donovan inquires, curiosity coloring his voice.
Morgan chuckles quietly. “Oliver told me you’re a little nerd, but I didn’t think it was that bad,” she teases.
“Morgan,” Mr. Donovan admonishes with a mild, reproachful look.
Smiling, I feel the need to defend her. “She’s right. Iama nerd. It was “Bella’s Lullaby” from theTwilightmovies…” I pause, adding a bit sheepishly, “It’s just something that’s always calmed me.”
“A movie about a piano player?” Mr. Donovan asks, his brow furrowing in thought.
Morgan laughs, winking at me. “Sure, a sparkling, century-old piano player,” she quips, and I can’t help but join in her laughter.
“Thank you for letting me come over,” I say after a moment, feeling a wave of genuine gratitude. “And sorry for not bringing cake.”
“That’s perfectly fine, dear,” Mr. Donovan assures me warmly. “Morgan brought cake. I’m sorry we don’t have any left for you.”
“Oh, I didn’t want to impose. I just needed this,” I confess, hesitating slightly. “But I can go now.”
“No, don’t. I was about to leave anyway,” Morgan replies with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Have fun, you two, and you have my number, Grandpa. Think about it. I’m here if you have more questions.”
“I will. Thank you for coming over, dear,” Mr. Donovan says, hugging Morgan before she turns to hug me too.
I’m so surprised I almost forget to hug her back.
“I can’t wait to hear how you liked the coffee date. Ollie loved it,” she whispers in my ear, making me blush. “Thank you for finally noticing him.”
Finally noticing him?
I look at her with wide eyes when she stands, but she just grins and waves, giving Peanut a pet on the head as she leaves.
Mr. Donovan chuckles while he sits down next to me on the piano stool, which is so big that there is still a lot of space between us.
Funny, it felt so small next to Grey.
“She has that way of hers, right? Making you like her from the first second with her unhurried, honest, and caring nature,” he says, stroking his mustache.
“She really does.” I nod in agreement.
I haven’t exchanged many words with Morgan, but I already know that she’s a person who shows up when you need her.
