Page 56 of Catch
She had been piecing together fragments of melodies, letting snippets of lyrics slip under her breath, and humming around the house since the day she arrived. But she hadn’t sung a full song, at least not where I could hear. And I had been too afraid to ask, afraid that she’d think I was chasing some fantasy ofLoxley Adamssinging for me.
But this wasn’t about Loxley Adams. This was about her.
Backing away, she slid off the bed, moving with quiet grace, like she was afraid to disturb something fragile in the air between us. She tiptoed into the living room, and I let my head fall back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling as I listened to her footsteps retreat. The room felt colder without her. The space between us too wide.
When she returned, the guitar was in her hands.
She strummed it idly as she climbed back onto the bed, settling in front of me, her legs crossed. We were both still naked, but she pulled a pillow onto her lap before resting theguitar on top. I sat up straighter, bracing myself against the headboard. The sheet was still pulled over my lower half, but I felt completely exposed.
She ran her fingers over the strings, testing the chords.
“I wrote this one at your parents’ house,” she said softly. “Or at least, that’s where it started. I’ll never be allowed to sing this one on an album, but I want you to hear it before I have to leave.”
She wasn’t leaving.
I had already made up my mind about that. I didn’t care what it took. If I had to build a studio onto my house, if I had to handcuff her to the damn wall, she wasn’t going anywhere.
But I stayed quiet in that moment, watching as she steadied herself, fingers poised on the strings, eyes meeting mine in silent confirmation.
“Ready?” she asked.
I nodded once, locking my jaw so she wouldn’t see what she was already doing to me.
And then she began to sing. Her voice was soft at first, just a breath of melody, but it settled into my bones immediately.
“I never met you, but I feel you here,
In the way he loves, in the strength he bears.
Through the ashes, you gave him life,
A man who’s gentle, a man who’s right.”
I sucked in a sharp breath.
Her voice wrapped around me, squeezed, pressed into the cracks of me I hadn’t realized were still open wounds.
“The fire may have taken you away,
But your legacy is alive every day.”
My throat burned, my vision blurred at the edges. I felt like I’d been stripped raw, like she’d reached inside me and pulled something out that I had buried so deep, I’d forgotten it was even there. I was so young when I lost them, it felt so distant. Butshe had brought me right back to how deep their loss still lived in me.
I had spent my whole life learning how to avoid and suppress the emotions that her words were eliciting in me.
Helpless. Vulnerable.
Two things I had never allowed myself to be. Two things I had been trained to ignore.
When the last note faded into silence, I couldn’t speak. I reached for her instead, pulling her into my arms, burying my face in her hair as I held on tight.
She didn’t say anything, didn’t push, just let me breathe her in. I knew she was waiting for me to say something, to tell her what I thought, but I had no words. So I just held her tighter and hoped she could feel how much it meant to me.
Loxley and I had fallen asleep tangled together, but the sharp, relentless pounding on my front door ripped me from sleep. My heart slammed into my ribs, instincts firing as I jolted upright.
Beside me, Loxley stirred, groggy and confused.
“Stay here,” I murmured, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before slipping out of bed.
