Page 113 of Perfect Pitch

Crawling out of bed, I swipe up the key my mother left for me at the front desk last night and let myself into her suite just in time to see her hurl a stack of newspaper clippings across the room. “When am I going to just be able to let you go? When does the pain end?”

“Mama?”

She keeps her back to the door even as relief fills her voice. “Austyn. I’m so glad you’re back.”

“I had to be completely clearheaded before I could say what I needed to say.”

She faces me. “Say it.”

“Right now, I just need you to be my friend, not my mother. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

I fiddle with my signet ring. “I don’t know how she did it, but Paige Kensington has always been my protector, my sword, and my shield.”

“Austyn.” The tears well in her eyes swiftly.

“No. Just listen. It took me being alone banging on a piano to realize you gave me my music—not him. You could have done what so many others would have and taken away something that reminded you of the person who walked away, but you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t.” Her arms flap helplessly.

“Because you love me.”

“Because when you love someone as much as I love you, it’s impossible not to give them your whole heart. You’d live for them; you’d die for them. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do to make things perfect for them. And for you, that’s music.”

I rush forward and wrap her in my arms. “I’m so sorry, Mama. So, so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she whispers as she strokes my hair.

We stand for long moments communicating with broken sobs, the clenching and release of arms, and the synchronization of our hearts. It’s a beautiful melody only the two of us can fully understand. After a few minutes, I lift my head and wipe my eyes before asking, “Will you answer something for me?”

“I’ll try.”

“Are you still in love with him?” What I want to know is If it is possible to forgive, to open your heart again?

She’s completely honest. Her thumb wipes my tears. “Oh, only every part of me that loves you.”

I can’t help but wince. “Mama, that sucks in the worst way.”

“Tell me about it, baby. I’ve lived with it since before you were born.”

I clamp down on my trembling lips. “And do you think things would have been different if he came back?”

“Austyn, if I did, our lives might have been very different or turned out just the same. I have no way of knowing. What I do know is I didn’t want you broadsided every day of your life with the same feelings I’ve had—swept away wondering about what-ifs and shoulda, coulda, wouldas.”

I stalk around the room restlessly. “I’m sorry, Mama.”

“Stop, Austyn. We can’t change the past.”

“For you, I wish I could.”

“I know.” And for one moment, we both let down the walls. In her, I spot the pain she’s kept back for so long. In me, she recognizes fury at a man I’ve never met. What she doesn’t know, what I won’t add to her burden, is my devastation over the people who do his bidding. Then, she brings us back on track. “But, Austyn, this doesn’t address the issue of why I told you sooner rather than later.”

My brow wrinkles in concentration. “No, it doesn’t, but I’m guessing it has to do with that letter from the attorney.”

She steps on top of the papers she threw around the room—and I have to hold back a laugh at the image of my prim and proper mother stepping all over her former lover—to snatch up her cell phone. “Sweetheart, they represent your father.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

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