Page 37 of The Fate of Us

I roll her mat up and hand it to her before spraying mine with disinfectant and putting it back in the pile. We grab our things and head out the door as I grab her hand. When we get to my SUV I pull her into a kiss.

“Thank you.”

She looks at me quizzically, her fingers tapping along my still bare chest. “Did you like it?”

“Hell no.” I laugh. “But I did it. And I do feel better.”

Her face breaks into a huge grin. “You are gonna do so well on that exam. Don’t worry about it anymore.”

I kiss her forehead. “I won’t.” And I mean it. I have been stressed about this for months but her encouragement and support has me feeling so much different than I was feeling weeks ago. “Now let’s get home so we can both shower.”

12

Anna

I playa few chords on the piano repeatedly trying to find the right melody for the song in my notebook. But nothing seems to sound right. I smash my forehead to the keys.

I have only a few days left to submit my paperwork for the songwriter’s workshop and I still don’t know what to do. I know I want to go. I know it will be the best thing for me. The exposure I need to have a chance at making it as a songwriter.

But with the way my writing has been over the last week I don’t feel worthy of the workshop. I can’t find my rhythm.

Literally.

And my harmonies sound more like squealing tires.

I’m stressed over moving out of my house, and I still haven’t talked to my landlord. All my calls go to voicemail and he hasn’t called me back. I even reached out to the realtor and she can’t get a hold of him either. She made promises to me that they would inform me of any showings and offers but she didn’t know what legal documents my landlord put together to end my lease.

I was able to talk to my neighbor and he didn’t know much either. But George had called him and informed him of the building going up for sale. But he was not given any notices about moving out either.

But the thing I am most stressed about is my relationship with Noah. I shouldn’t be stressed. He is amazing. He listens, he comforts me, he makes me want to pursue all my dreams. And of course, the way his body fits with mine is better than anything I have ever experienced. But I still worry something will go wrong. I worry we are moving too fast. Most of all I worry that he isn’t ready for this. I know he loves me but I still think he is waiting for his ex-wife to return.

I take a deep breath and release it through my closed lips, the vibrations giving me no creative juices. I put my right hand on the keys and play a few notes with my head still resting in the middle of the keyboard.

“Is that a new song writing technique?” Mason asks with a laugh as I hear him close the door behind him.

I’m sitting in one of the recording rooms in the dark, except for the three candles lit on the piano. I’m trying to come up with three new songs to bring to the writing workshop just in case I do accidentally send them in.

I know, I can’t make my mind up on anything.

I groan as I answer Mason. “If it is, it isn’t working,” I mutter into my chest.

I feel Mason sit next to me at the piano. His fingers glide effortlessly over the keys, a gentle, soothing melody brought to life.

I slowly lift my head as he plays the familiar melody. I hum along to a song we wrote together months ago until I finally find the words in my throat. He joins me during the chorus, our words battling back and forth in a song about love and hate.

When the song comes to an end he wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Trouble in paradise? My brother being a dick?”

“I don’t think he knows how to be,” I answer truthfully.

Mason snorts. “Maybe not to you.”

I stretch my fingers out in front of me, flexing the muscles before placing them on the black and white keys. “I just can’t write and I don’t know what to do about Nashville and I’m worried I’m moving too fast with Noah.”

I don’t mean to say that last part but it comes out anyway.

“Trust me, you aren’t moving too fast with Noah.”

I look over at Mason. “You don’t think it’s too early to move in with him?”

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