“I get it. I do. It just feels like a shame, that’s all.”
“Thanks. Yeah, no one remembers who produced a song except for the music industry itself. I realised I was happyenough with respect from my peers, I could leave the fame and celebrity, and intrusion.”
“I like the way you see things. It’s refreshing.”
“I’m pretty neurodivergent.”
“Neurospicy?” Lily smiled.
“That’s right.” I laughed. “Most people find me a bit much or a bit odd. Intense, I think.”
“I don’t know everything about you yet, but I already know that I like you for who you are.”
I swallowed, remembering how well she’d got to know me while fucking me in Greece.
“Can you put your songs on again and sit with me?”
I did as she asked and sat down beside her, closer than I had before. This time she didn’t put her arm around me though. I wanted it back.
The songs started from the beginning again. Even though some of them were painful, as many of them were about my relationship with Becca, it was like they were also taking on a new life of their own now that I was sharing them. They were becoming something new and less heavy.
“I’m sorry you went through all that with your relationship ending. I can feel how painful it was for you.”
“That’s kind, thanks, Lily.”
“And she really doesn’t talk to you anymore?”
“She felt a clean break would be best.”
“That’s hard.”
“I had to block her online. I couldn’t bear to see her living her life as if we never happened.”
Lily nodded, kindly. “I can understand that.”
“I’ve grieved her, Lily. I’ve moved on. If you’re wondering if I’m not ready for a relationship, I just want you to know that I am now. I feel like myself again. Writing andfinishing these songs was one of the things that helped me let her go.”
Lily nodded again, this time knitting the skin between her eyes together. “I’m glad to hear that.”
We listened to the next song in silence. It was one of the more sensual ones and wasn’t about anyone in particular in my life. More like an amalgamation of people. It reminded me of that time just before you got together with someone and all you did was project your idealised version of who they were onto them. The person was perfect and had no human flaws. They filled the cold corners of your soul and lit you up from the inside. Life felt better knowing they were in it. Very much like how I was feeling about Lily right now. There was something so exposing hearing yourself singing, to your own song, about how you were feeling about someone, with them listening to it.
Lily stretched her arms into the air and reset herself on the sofa, lifting her leg and placing it underneath her. She faced me, resting her head on the back of her hand, her elbow on the back of the sofa.
I mirrored her body language, and faced her, my heart starting to pound.
“How does it feel sharing your private music with me?”
“Honestly, I feel vulnerable. I’m nervous.”
“Why?”
I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it again. Did she want me to spell it out for her?
“Sorry, I understand that. What I mean is that I want you to feel safe with me. I know you’ve been hurt before, and I know that you’ve shared some of your deepest and most intimate feelings with me through your songs. I can’t believe how lucky I am. Does that make sense?”
I smiled, slowly, feeling so seen and accepted. Lily had this way of making me feel butterflies and calming me at the same time. Objectively speaking, she was my ideal woman. Gorgeous, kind, genuine, and passionate. She was fucking perfect. I took a shaky breath and then a deeper, more certain one, feeling my whole nervous system relax.
“Can I touch you?” Lily hovered her hand over my thigh, in pretty much the same place she touched me on the boat for the first time.
