I could breathe without it feeling like I was being cut with a hundred sharp knives.
With my eyes still closed, I listened to Ayla playing. After a song, she played another. And then she started humming.
My eyes opened and I stared at her. Her eyes were closed, her body moving slowly with the music. My stomach twisted and my heart ached at the sight.
With her black hair falling down in waves around her shoulders, her cheeks flushed red and her white dress, only one thought came to mind.
Something that my father told me about, so many years ago. I shook my head and squeezed my hands in fists. A throbbing pain went through my fingers, but that wasn’t enough to snap me out of my thoughts.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Ayla.
As the soft, gentle and beautiful music continued to flow around us, enveloping us in a peaceful melody, I could only think of one thing.
Ayla.
She looked like an angel.
***
Lena
I was awake, my mind racing. In was one of those nights when I couldn’t stop thinking about Maria.
My eyes were closed, but when I heard a beautiful music, I opened them again, my forehead creasing in confusion. I quickly sat up. I looked at my ceiling and gasped. It was coming from the sitting room. The piano.
But how was it possible? Nobody was allowed in the room. No one except Alessio himself.
Who could be playing? I walked toward the music. As I drew closer, it sounded so beautiful, haunting yet peaceful.
No one had played the piano since Maria’s death. Lyov and Alessio had forbid it.
The door was open. Leaning against the wall, I peeked inside. Alessio was sitting on the couch. His eyes were focused intently on the piano, but it was his expression that took my breath away.
He looked completely mesmerized.
I leaned forward, and this time I had to press my hand over my mouth to stop the gasp that threatened to escape.
Ayla was playing the piano, her eyes closed as she hummed, a soft smile on her face.
I looked back and forth between them. They were both enthralled.
Ayla was lost in playing the piano while Alessio was lost in her.
I sniffed as the tears fell down my cheeks. What a beautiful sight.
Slowly stepping away from the door, I smiled. This was it, the moment I had been waiting for.
He is going to be okay, I thought.
Looking up at the ceiling, I softly whispered, “He is going to be okay. He found her, Maria.” Tears blinded my vision. “You can rest in peace now. Your sweet boy has found his angel.”
Chapter 28
Ayla
After playing the first song, I couldn’t help myself, so I didn’t stop. Instead, I played another. One of my favorite songs, called I Won’t Give Up. I used to play that every day.
As the song flowed around me, I felt myself singing to the melody. My voice was a quiet whisper, soft even to my ears. My racing heart slowed to a soothing beat.
After so long, I felt at peace and strangely hopeful.
The piano had always been my escape. When life failed me, my piano never did. It always gave me the sanctuary I needed. It always brought me the peace I was desperate for. And I was grateful I could feel that way again.
The second song ended and I played another one, hoping Alessio wouldn’t tell me to stop. But when I didn’t hear him, I continued to play. This time I played A Thousand Years.
As my fingers flowed on the keys and the third song came to an end, I slowly opened my eyes, instantly meeting Alessio’s gaze. His stare was intense, unflinching, and he looked deep in thought, and maybe a little lost.
My hands were still resting on the piano as we stared at each other. The smile on my face dissipated as nervousness filled my body.
As long as I was playing, I didn’t care what happened around me. Nothing mattered. But now, looking at Alessio, his eyes as intense as always, I grew anxious.
But though his stares were intense, they were warm. Something I never saw in him before.
When he didn’t move or say anything, I cleared my throat. At the sudden sound, his eyes widened and he looked away. He raked his bloody fingers through his hair.
I winced at the sight and got up and stood in front of the piano. From that position, Alessio wasn’t far from me, only a few feet away.
I could see his bruised face clearly and winced again. His cheeks were red and quickly turning into a slight purple shade. There was a cut on his eyebrow and dried blood covered his lips.
“You can leave,” Alessio said in a hard voice. Flinching at his sudden change of tone, I took a step back and hit the piano. My hands played with the hem of my dress in nervousness.
He was doing it again. From warm to cold in seconds.
“You should clean your wounds so they don’t get infected,” I said. Keeping my eyes on him, I watched for his reaction.
He didn’t give me any. Instead he glared at the wall to his side, his jaw locked tight together.
My heart started to gallop again as worry filled me. Maybe I had overstepped my limits. I shouldn’t have played the piano. I shouldn’t have even been there.
As I continued to fidget with my dress, I bit on my lips as my hands grew colder.
“I said leave!” Alessio growled.
My eyes widened and I scurried away from the piano. At the door, my steps faltered and I slowly looked over my shoulder. He had the brown glass bottle in his hand and he was staring at it, his other fist clenched tight. Shoulders heavy in defeat, I walked out of the room.
I knew he wasn’t going to clean his wounds. Alessio was too lost in his pain, and I understood his feelings. His pain made my heart ache because I knew what it felt like to be hopeless.
Making my way to my room, I got inside and turned on the lights. I quickly rummaged through my drawer and found the first aid kit. Holding it close my chest, I let out another sigh.
I was a little apprehensive to go back there. But maybe if the first aid kit was in front of him, he would clean his wounds. Without a second thought, I closed the drawer and quickly walked out of my room and made my way back.
The door was partially closed, exactly how I left it. I found myself chewing on my nails, but forced myself to put my hand down. After a few seconds of standing outside, shuffling from one foot to the other, I pushed the door open.
Peeking inside, I saw Alessio still sitting in the same spot. This time his head was resting on the back on the plush couch and his eyes were closed. He was still holding the bottle on his thigh, but it was empty. It had been half-full when I left.
My heart twisted at the thought of him drinking himself to oblivion.
I walked in and his eyes snapped open, annoyance and frustration clearly written on his face as he stared at the ceiling, refusing to look at me.
With shaky hands, I placed the first aid kit on the coffee table and then buried my hands in my skirt to hide the nervousness brewing inside of me.
His gaze moved toward the coffee table and then he closed them, silently dismissing my presence.