Page 144 of Crescendo

A conductor at the Royal Albert Hall. She was phenomenal. Who made their proper debut here other than her?

Meet you by door one,she sent back and my heart leapt.

I couldn’t get there fast enough, barely registering the staff watching me race for the doors. It probably looked like I hated the show. At least it was only my own piece that had played so far.

I made it to the doors before her, pacing nervously, and my heart stopped when she finally appeared, laughing.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, Ella Hendrickson?” she said, striding towards me with an impossible smile. “Impressing the whole of the Royal Albert Hall with that stunning piece. Look at you go.”

“You’re here,” I said, barely audible. “You conducted.”

“I did.” She grinned, stopping in front of me, a little closer than you would with a friend. “Couldn’t have someone else conducting your piece now, could I?”

I shook my head slowly. “How did you even…?”

“I’m Lydia Howard Fox. I ask and Adam makes it happen.”

That tracked. “But why would you…”

Her expression softened, looking at me besottedly. “Our names together in music.”

I nodded, crying again—though I wasn’t sure I’d ever really stopped.

She reached a hand up to wipe away some of my tears. “I couldn’t let someone else conduct your debut, Ms. Hendrickson.”

“How many people have the person they wrote the song for conducting it?” I asked with a laugh.

“Even I’m not arrogant enough to think it was just for me.”

“Ah, well. A little for Callum, a little for me, but… it wouldn’t have existed without you. The clarinets were all for you. You know that, right?”

The emotions she’d been hiding under her joyous smile flashed across her face—nerves, hope, fear, a whole tangle of things that matched what I’d been feeling for days now.

She nodded and stepped closer. I wanted to fall into her, to breathe her in, luxuriate in the moment of having her back in my arms. The cardigan she’d left me didn’t smell of her anymore. I’d worn it too many times. But she was there, in front of me. So very close.

“Lydia,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

She smiled, softly, sadly. We’d both been so stubborn, so sure we couldn’t make this work, and for what? All it had done was break both our hearts. And everyone had been right—the feelings didn’t go anywhere.

For four years, I’d done nothing but put my life into a tiny, tidy box. The loss was still real, the fear of moving on, of losing everyone I cared about was still there, but this was living. And Callum would be so proud. Fall in love, make it messy and real, and make it bigger than the whole world—but make it work, because it’s worth it.

I sucked in a shuddering breath. “You were perfect. You made the piece magical.”

She shook her head, her other hand coming up to cup my face, and I gave in, allowed myself to hold her, my hands gripping her hips. It felt like breathing.

“The piece is perfect. It deserved to be here, Ella.Youdeserve to be here, to be known and heard.” She laughed and gestured back towards the auditorium. “And every single person in there knows that. You just made a name for yourself and I can’t wait to see what you do with it.”

“No, no. They were mostly clapping—correctly—for you.”

“Maybe before the piece they were, but you have no idea how gifted of a composer you are.” She held my gaze seriouslyand intently. “It was an honour and a privilege to conduct your piece.”

I wasn’t really sure what to do with that. I just wanted it to mean that we got to be together, just like we’d promised. “You’re a very talented conductor.”

“I know, right?” She laughed before shaking it off and looking more sincere. “The orchestra is wonderful, so is the team here. And I’m glad it was your piece.”

My insides were humming at a fever pitch, making me feel like I’d pass out, and I couldn’t resist any longer. I slipped my arms around her back and pulled her into a hug. The way she wrapped around me, breathing me in too, felt like something vital slipping into place in my being, and I sobbed unreservedly into her shoulder.

“You know,” she whispered, her voice thick with tears, “Cynthia suggested she might like to invite me back to work with the orchestra again…”

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