“Livia was grateful. Her hand had started to ache, missing the tingle Blake’s skin provided.”
“As the nurses busied themselves with other patients and statistics, Livia slid her hand over his. She needed to feel his skin. She tucked his hand under the thin blanket and held it without protection. The same tingling she’d felt when they first held hands flooded her skin. He’s still in there. They can tell me anything they want. Blake’s right here.She scooted her chair closer to his head. The deep, monotonous breaths the ventilator forced him to take sounded scary, but Livia held tight to his hand.“I love you, Blake Hartt,” she whispered. “I’ll love you forever.”
“Livia wanted to get back to Blake’s music. It had filled her dreams.”
“Livia removed her hand from Blake’s to take his ring from Cole’s palm. She kissed the ring and prepared to place it in its permanent home on his finger.”
“May I escort you inside, Mrs. Hartt?”Livia bit her lower lip and nodded.Blake scooped her up.To be carried was such a basic thing. And yet it felt…Primal? Almost. Religious? Maybe.She focused on his deep, even breaths as he maneuvered through the doorway. Livia laughed a little at herself. She was grateful for the simple act of Blake’s breathing.”
“Blake and Livia were next to exit. He took the steps before she could and turned to offer her his hand, like a knight escorting his queen. Livia took Blake’s hand and hugged his offered arm. Bea’s photographer-nephew’s flash blinded them as it captured their moment for all time.”
“You can play. You can play. You can play! Livia leaned against the wall, her aches and pains and shivering chill melting away now that Blake’s playing had become something beautiful. She tilted her head back and opened her mouth, as if to drink the music. She couldn’t imagine how he created it—it sounded as if three people must be playing. She heard bells, then the notes sounded like voices. So clearly the music sang to her: Blake loves Livia. Blake loves Livia. She stretched her arms out and dug her fingers into the rough, scratchy brick, trying to hug him from the outside of the church. She wiped tears from her cheeks. She wanted to run inside and see him creating. She wanted to see his strong arms and intuitive fingers crafting the notes. Blake’s sounds enchanted her.”