Part 115
The soft hum of the recorder filled the room as she settled into the couch, watching him through the glass panel.
Adrian sat at the piano, headphones on, his back straight, movements slow and precise. His fingers glided across the keys, light and deliberate, like he was weaving something sacred.
For a while, she simply listened — soaking in the sound, letting it wrap around her like a dream.
It was beautiful.
Painful.
Alive.
But the longer she listened, the heavier her chest became.
There was something in his playing — something she couldn't describe.
It wasn't the tenderness he used to show her, nor the quiet resignation from before.
This was different.
Defiant, even.
As if each note were trying to escape her grasp.
Her hand twitched on her thigh.
She forced a smile, but her reflection in the glass looked brittle, almost frightened.
He's happy, she told herself. He's finally playing again because of me.
And yet… why did it feel like every chord was slipping away from her?
Her gaze flicked to the recorder's red light — steady, blinking, waiting.
He'd insisted she fetch it, said it was for them.
For their world.
But now, hearing him play, she realized something — the song wasn't about her.
It wasn't about them at all.
Every note felt like a goodbye.
Her pulse spiked. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air too thin.
"No…" she whispered, standing. "You wouldn't…"
She walked toward the studio glass, her footsteps sharp against the wood.
Adrian didn't turn. He kept playing, lost in his world — or maybe, escaping into it.
Her hands trembled.
He had promised. Promised not to leave again.
Promised he was happy here.
So why did the song sound like freedom?
She clenched her jaw, nails digging into her palms.
Maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe it's just my fear.
But deep down, something inside her — the part that had once watched him from the dark — began to stir again.
That whisper she thought she'd silenced months ago returned, soft and poisonous.
He's planning something.
He's lying again.
He always lies when he smiles like that.
She exhaled shakily and backed away, her gaze hardening.
She'd let him believe she trusted him — for now.
But if he was planning something, if he dared to reach for that world again…
She would remind him just how far she'd go to keep him hers.