CHAPTER 15
1649 Words
Notes from the Past
"Please," Bruno repeated, his voice lower this time, anxious but cautious, like if cradling a fragile gem. "Only 5 minutes. That is all I need. Five minutes, and I won't stop you if you want to leave."
Five minutes.
Her instincts yelled two things at once: run, before Junior sees you and you wreck everything; and remain, because here feels like home.
She swallowed, her throat dry. Finally, she let out a shaky whisper. " Just Five minutes."
Bruno's shoulders relaxed as if he'd been holding his breath for years. Relief flickered across his features, causing an ache in her chest. He motioned to an empty booth near the window, and they sat facing each other, as if bound by invisible strings.
There was a long pause between them. Neither dared to breathe too loudly, terrified of upsetting what had begun to emerge between them.
Bruno opened his notebook and cleared his throat. Its pages were scribbled with rushed lyrics and drawings of stars, guitars, and broken hearts; they were also wrinkled and yellowed at the edges. He moved it toward her, his fingers quivering a little.
"Do you remember this?" he said, his voice wavering at the brink of hope.
Catherina leaned forward. Her eyes skimmed the paper. She spotted Scribbled lyrics—lines about longing, promises, and dreams. Her own name was written at the bottom, in distinct, rounder handwriting.
Her breath caught. "That's mine." She finally said something.
"Yes," Bruno replied swiftly and desperately. "You used to write the words, and I were to put them to music. This book is ours. Every page represents a piece of us." He said.
Her fingers followed the familiar loops of her handwriting, memories clinging to her thoughts like whispers through a shut door. One line stopped her cold:
“Even if the world forgets us, our melody never will.”
She blinked. The café blurred. The sound of a pen scratching against paper rang in her ears, as did sunlight flowing over grass and laughter entwined in guitar chords.
“I…” Her head erupted with a piercing pain. She touched her forehead with her hand.
Bruno leaned closer and murmured softly, "Easy. Avoid pushing it. Allow it to happen naturally.”
Her voice faltered. "This is what I wrote for you," she said.
Bruno’s smile was soft, aching. “You wrote it for us.” He said.
And subsequently flashes. It rained on her flesh—- Guitar in trembling fingers She ran barefoot through a meadow, laughing so hard that her lungs burned. A boy by her side, eyes full with fire, swearing beneath a tree.
She let out a gasp. She reached for her mouth. "I remembered some, but not everything." She said.
Bruno's eyes gleamed. "That is enough for now. You are remembering, Cat. I knew music could help you heal." He said.
Her eyes met his, wide, pained, and full of questions; "Why didn't you arrive sooner?, Why did you let me forget?, Why did you leave me in the arms of another?”
His breath caught, and his features tightened as if struck. He uttered it with a sense of shame;
"After the accident, they told me you had Amenesia, which is memory loss. I tried everything I could to get to you. My lawyers and trustees did not release enough funds to cover my trip to Harvard, Massachusetts. But I wrote to you every day, even though I didn't email them, because I had fears you wouldn't remember me anymore.”
Catherina trembled, her eyes hurting with tears.
Bruno muttered, "They failed in their attempt to split us apart. Yet, I trusted them. Perhaps dragging you back into what your mind had erased was selfish, I thought. However, fate had a way of reuniting us.”
“But when I saw you at prom and heard you whisper my name, I knew I couldn't stay away any longer."
Her tears flowed freely, flowing down onto the paper. For the years lost, for the boy in front of her, and for the ache that had never truly gone away.
"Bruno," she said softly, her voice almost breaking.
He reached across the table, shaking as his palm touched hers. She did not draw away.
The storm gathered outside.
Junior was sitting in his black sedan across the street, his jaw clenched so tightly it was painful. With his eyes focused on the café window, one of his men waited in the driver's seat.
Junior did not blink. He'd followed her here, anticipating what? That she had gone to purchase tea? To study? Never this.
And him,
Bruno leaning across the table, hand brushing against hers, nearly caused his vision to turn red.
"She's mine," he murmured, his knuckles turning white on the driving wheel.
“Boss?” his driver asked cautiously.
Junior's eyes never left the window. "Not yet. Let her believe she can play this game. Let him believe he is winning. When the time comes, she'll know who she belongs to." He said.
He spoke in a low, poisonous voice. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he suppressed his anger. For the time being.
Catherina's fingertips were still resting on the notebook inside the café. Bruno flipped through another page. Her handwriting was scribbled across the top of a staff paper with a straightforward melody:
It was their song.
She froze. And then, like a dam breaking, the memories flooded in.
The meadow. The tree. The boy holding the guitar.
She recalled Bruno’s words on that very day they wrote their Song ;
"We'll write our own song, And no matter where life takes us, this melody will bring us back together."
She opened her mouth. Abrupt sobs heaved in her chest. “You promised."
Bruno swallowed forcefully, causing his throat to bob. "And I meant it," he replied, his voice breaking. “Each and every syllable.”
Her tears fell uncontrollably. "I believed it was only a dream. For years, I thought it was a dream." She said.
"It was real," Bruno murmured calmly, his palm fully covering her. “It was always real. It was us."
The dam ruptured. Images flooded her head in parts and pieces, some vivid and some blurry. Bruno's laughter echoed through the rain. Their pinkies were linked with promise. The sensation of his guitar vibrating on her arm as he let her strum. The promise beneath the tree.
Bruno's eyes brimmed. His thumb brushed against her skin , calming her. "That is all I have wanted, Cat. For you to remember me again." He said.
The magical aura was broken as her phone rang sharply against the table.
Catherina was startled by what sounded like a gunshot in the calm cafe. She cast a downward glance. The name on the screen made her stomach sink.
It was Junior.
Her chest tightened, and panic flooded her veins.
Bruno instantly noted the strain in her shoulders and the terror in her eyes. His jaw stiffened. "He's controlling you, isn't he?" He questioned.
She paused and replied "He loves me; the only issue is that he loses his temper easily. Bruno, you don't get it. I don't want him to hurt you because he is dangerous."
Bruno leaned forwards, his eyes burning. "I understand enough. He is Rafael Cortez's son. I know what that means. And I will not let him harm you.”
The phone buzzed again, louder this time, clanging on the table.
Catherina’s breath came in quick gasps. “I have to go. If he finds me here, with you…”
"Then let him," Bruno answered, as steady as a stone. "I won't let him take you from me again."
Her hands shook. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.” She said.
Bruno's grip on her hand tightened, but remained gentle. "I do not care. I've lost you once. I will not lose you again." He uttered.
The phone buzzed a third time, loud and merciless.
Her chest expanded. Then, with shaky fingers, she stopped it. She slipped it into her backpack. For the first time in months, she chose quiet over obedience.
Her eyes met his, sparkling with fear and rebellion. "I do not want to leave. But I have to.” She said.
Bruno's breath caught as his heart raced. He gave her hand a light, respectful squeeze. A vow was made as his thumb made gentle circles on her skin. Then remain. “Catherina, stay with me.” He pleaded.
She saw signs of certainty, longing, and hope on Bruno’s face. Her heart rushed ahead in spite of every caution sign in her mind and at every hint of Junior's anger.
For the first time in years, she smiled despite her tears.
Across the street, Junior’s phone buzzed again. No answer.
His vision became black around the edges. He slapped his fist on the dashboard, shocking the driver.
"She's ignoring me," he hissed. His breath came in harsh rushes, and rage radiated from him like fire.
The driver breathed heavily. "Do you want us to go inside?" he asked, for the second time.
"Not yet," Junior interrupted him, his voice low and harsh. "Let her dig the hole. Let her believe she is free. But if I move, there would be nowhere for both of them to run." He reiterated.
His attention was fixed on Bruno's hand that was covering hers, as seen through the café window.
“She thinks she can betray me? That he can take what’s mine? No. I’ll make her remember exactly who she belongs to.” He spoke in an angry manner.
His palm curled into a fist as he stared through the window, his obsession tightening like a chain.
The battle for Catherina's heart had begun. And neither Bruno nor Junior were willing to give her up.
- Writer
