Page 90 of Play Me

CADENCE

I’ve waited as long as I can.

Waited until Hailey left and convinced Sarah to go home.

Waited until I took a shower and stood in the kitchen making tea and waiting for it to cool.

Waited until the sun had set and the stars had come out to play.

Waited until I could barely breathe from the weight of the suspense.

And now I’m ready.

I slide the CD into my laptop and click on the one file.

There’s a soft buzz and then the sound of soft breathing in the microphone.

And then he speaks. “This is... this is “Cadence’s Song”. A song for my muse. My everything, my here, there, everywhere and in between. I miss you so much. This is for you. ”

My heart feels like it skips one, two, three beats and I thump myself on the chest to start it. The tears have already started to fill my eyes and I feel my fingers grip into fists, almost like I’m trying to capture the air particles that carry the timbres of his voice. How I’ve missed his voice. His words, his whispers into my shoulder as he cradles me from behind.

And then he starts to play.

It’s a sweet, beautiful melody. Gentle and lilting, the sound of moonlight on water, of raindrops on skin. Parts of it sound so familiar, and I remember I’ve heard some of it before, heard it that night after the club incident.

It’s him. It’s all him. It’s as though he’s speaking to me, clearer than if he’d used words.

The song is heartbreaking, his notes long and sad, dark and yearning. It’s like he’s been watching me these last few days and turned my tears into music.

I feel so alone and yet so understood all at once.

I can’t help but ponder what I’ve lost and what I may never find again. I’m not the same person I was when I was seventeen and shut my heart off to the world. Maybe this time, my response to the brutal invasion of my privacy should have been different. I tried exclusion, maybe this time I should’ve tried inclusion. Instead of hiding, I should’ve sought justice and strength in facing it together and publicly declaring, ‘this is not acceptable’.

But it’s too late. I cast the die in pain and fear.

The music ends on a tender, minor chord, the mournful sound of endings, and it fills my heart with an ache in the shape of him.