I thought the song would end there, and it almost did, the song trailing out on a note of hope and bittersweet acceptance. But then something new entered the song—something bright and strong and brave and beautiful, something I immediately recognized as Tristan.
And within six notes, it was impossible not to know that Genevieve was deeply, fiercely, unwillingly, and very much hopelessly in love with him.
My knees threatened to collapse beneath me. I watched in stunned silence as Genevieve at last set aside the pipe, breathless both with playing and with tears, trembling as she waited for Tristan’s reaction.
Which reaction was to tenderly, wonderingly, pull her close and kiss her.
Some sound burst from my throat, though it could not have been a word. I saw both faces turn toward me wide
