Page 51 of A Wish for Us

I didn’t even think before I spoke the words. “Violet blue.”

She smiled and went into her dorm. I watched her go, dumbstruck at what I’d just said.

Violet blue.

I didn’t go home. I kept walking. I walked until I arrived at the spot by the lake that Easton showed me. I sat down on the grass and watched as the sun began to rise.

Birds sang and brought flickers of bright orange to my head. Cars passed, bringing scarlet reds. The same canoeist I always saw paddled in the distance, and I breathed in deeply. I tasted the freshness of the air and the green of the grass. It was keeping the walls from climbing back up. I tipped my head forward and pushed my fingers through my hair. I didn’t like how shaky I felt. Too many emotions were rushing through me, mixing the colors until I wasn’t able to tell them apart…

“I don’t want it anymore,” I said, snapping at my dad as he stood next to the stage.

I pulled on my bow tie and stormed past him. “I missed my footie match with my mates today.” I started pacing. “Instead I had to be here.” I pointed at the hall that was packed with people. All of them older than me by at least twenty years.

“Cromwell, I know you’re pissed off. But, son, the chance this is giving you. The music…You’re so talented. I can’t say it enough times.”

“I know you can’t! It’s all you ever talk about. This is all I ever do!” I balled my hands into fists. “I’m starting to hate music.” I hit my head with my hand. “I fucking hate these colors. I wish I never had them at all!”

My dad put his hands in the air. “I get it, son. I do. But I’m just looking out for your future. I don’t think you see your own potential—”

“And Tyler Lewis? Why is he here now? Why has he been trying to work with me?”

“Because he can help you, son. I’m an officer in the British Army. I have no idea how to foster your talent. How to help you realize your potential.” He shook his head. “I don’t see the colors like you. I can’t even play ‘Chopsticks’ on the piano.I’m out of my league.” He sighed. “Lewis can help you be the best you can be. I promise…I love you, son. Everything I do is only ever for you…”

I blinked away the memory and felt my stomach sink. I sat for two hours just watching the lake. I grabbed a breakfast burrito on the way home but then stopped at the music building. My emotions warred inside me. I wanted so badly to accept all this again—the music, the love of playing, the passion of composing. But the darkness I’d had for three years always lurked near, ready to bring the anger and snatch it all away. But then Bonnie’s face flashed in my head, and a sense of calmness washed through me. I let myself inside and saw the light on in Lewis’s office.

My jaw clenched as I raised my hand to knock. I stopped for a second and just breathed.What the hell are you doing, Dean?I asked myself. But then I thought of Farraday’s smile, and my knuckles hit wood.

“Come in?” The permission to enter was a cross between a question and command. I pushed the door open. Lewis stood behind his desk, sheets of music spread on the tabletop. He was wearing glasses. I’d never seen him wear them before.

“Cromwell?” he said in surprise. His stuff was all over the place. He looked like he hadn’t been to sleep at all.

Join the club.

“Lewis.” I sat down on the seat opposite him. He watched me warily. He sat down, gathering his sheets of music.

I caught sight of them as he did. He stopped and turned them to face me. “What do you think?” I could tell by his tone that he didn’t think I’d answer. But when I saw his scribbled notes on the manuscript paper, I couldn’t look away. He had parts for almost a full orchestra. My eyes ran over the notes, the colored pattern of the music playing in my head. I looked at them all, synergizing them into the symphony he was writing it to be.

“It’s good.” I was putting it mildly. It was beyond good. And by the look on Lewis’s face, he knew it.

“Still in its infancy, but so far, I’m happy with it.”

I looked at that picture of him in the Royal Albert Hall. I always did when I came in here. It held so many memories for me. “What’s it for?” I pointed at the music Lewis was putting into piles.

“The National Philharmonic is playing a huge gala concert in Charleston in a few months, celebrating new music. They’ve asked me to conduct. And I’ve agreed.”

I frowned. “I thought you didn’t conduct your music anymore.”

“I don’t.” He laughed and shook his head. “I’ve been in a better place in recent years…” He didn’t finish that sentence, but I knew it was in relation to his drug and alcohol problems. “I thought I’d give it a go.” He leaned forward and put his folded arms on the table. “It’s Sunday morning, Cromwell. And you look like you’ve been up all night too. How can I help you?”

I stared down at my hands in my lap. My blood was rushing through my veins so fast I could hear it in my ears. Lewis waited for me to speak. I didn’t know how the hell to explain. I almost got up and left, but Bonnie’s face came into my head and had me rooted to the seat.

I played with my tongue ring, then blurted out, “I have synesthesia.”

Lewis’s eyebrows rose.

He nodded. And by the lack of shock on his face, I knew. “My dad…” I shook my head. I even let out a single laugh. “He told you, didn’t he?”

Lewis was wearing an expression I didn’t recognize. Pity maybe? Sympathy? “Yeah, I knew,” he said. “Your father…” He watched me closely. I didn’t blame him. I’d almost torn his throat out the last time he’d mentioned him. When he saw I was keeping my shit together, he added, “He contacted me when I was in England on one of my tours.”

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