STRINGS OF THE PAST (A Song we will play)

CHAPTER 20

A Fragile Goodbye back to New York

For Catherina, the days following Elena's confession blended together. Her mind was stuck in the echo of those words she could not stop hearing, and she woke up every morning with her heart racing:

"It wasn't just an accident. It was planned.”

Junior's voice continued to haunt her— the vehemence of his threats, the craziness in his eyes whenever she tried to distant herself.

But she now knew for certain what had happened: he had purposefully caused the accident, plunging her life into darkness.

Her amnesia had not been a sad twist of fate; it had been his weapon.

Every time she saw him, she felt chains tighten around her. And every time she saw Bruno, her chest cracked with the crushing shame of being silent.

Bruno informed her of his departure in the midst of an emotional tempest.

When she entered his dorm room, it appeared to be half-abandoned, with sheet music spilled across the bed, books placed awkwardly against the wall, and a half-zipped suitcase open on the floor. His guitar case sat against the desk, he had travelled with Gloria, the leather old but still cleaned with care. The slight aroma of his cologne lingered in the air, mixed with the crisp cardboard of moving boxes.

Bruno turned around at the sound of her footsteps, and his entire face lit up. His smile was always powerful—warm, disarming, and genuine—and it quiet every anxiety for a heartbeat.

"You came," he replied, putting aside the stack of music sheets he'd been organizing.

She halted in the doorway, holding the strap of her bag as if it could anchor her. "You're really leaving," she said quietly.

Bruno stepped closer with a gentle smile and bright, dark eyes. “Indeed. Cat, I'm returning to New York. Returning home—even though with you by my side it already seems like home. I have to go back to — school, Juilliard and the company, Digital Studios.” He said.

He gripped her fingers before she could escape, his touch solid and grounded. "But do you know what matters most? That when I return, I'll still have you.”

Her throat clenched. Fear squeezed at her ribcage. She wanted to cling to him and tell him about Junior's threats, the truth Elena had discovered, and the danger that remained in the shadows. But, how could she? Junior's threats resonated in her memory.

So she mustered a brittle smile. "Do not say stuff like that. New York is huge. You will meet a thousand girls. You'll forget me in an instant." She said.

Bruno's smile faded, his brow furrowed as he kept her stare. "Do not say that. I can never forget you. Not in New York or anywhere else."

His hold tightened, almost as if he detected the gap she was attempting to create between them. "Catherina, you aren't someone the world can erase. Not for me." He said.

She blinked quickly, tears threatening to fall. To conceal them, she leaned against him and rested her head on his chest. His warmth enveloped her, as steady as the heartbeat beneath her ear. For a little moment, she allowed herself to believe in a future in which this embrace could endure forever.

Later that evening, when she couldn't keep her thoughts contained, she sought out Elena. They met on the riverside, where the water reflected the moon like a fractured mirror.

"You still haven't told him," Elena said slowly, her eyes heavy with experience.

"I can't." Catherina embraced herself, her voice shaking. "Junior said... He said he would kill Bruno. And himself. And me. If I say something, and I believe he will do it."

Elena's lips shook with rage and pity. "So you're just going to let Bruno leave with lies?, You'll keep this silence forever?"

"If it keeps him safe," Catherina said, staring at the undulating river, "then yes I would."

Elena exhaled sharply and shook her head. "That isn't love, Catherina. That is survival. Junior thrives on your silence. That’s his power.” She said.

The words cut deep, but fear still weighed heavier than courage.

The morning of Bruno's departure was dreary, with clouds heavy as if the sky itself mourned. Catherina awoke in her hostel room, staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours before forcing herself up. Catherina could barely hear her roommate's talk in the background. For her today was not a day to laugh.

She changed carefully, slipping into a soft cream dress and fixing her hair with her silver hairclip— the one she always wore to make herself feel braver than she was. Then she walked across campus, each step dragged by the realization of what she would soon lose.

Junior was not around. He had left for a family event the night before, and his absence was both a comfort and a reminder. She could breathe freely for a moment, but she also knew his shadow was long, reaching even where he wasn't.

At the college gates, a small crowd had formed. Friends, lecturers, and fellow musicians gathered to wish Bruno well. He stood among them, bag at his feet and guitar draped across his back. His smile was broad, but when his gaze met hers, the noise surrounding them faded away.

"Cat," he said, his voice soft and intended exclusively for her. She smiled with trembling lips. "Of course I came to bid my bestie goodbye." She said.

He drew her near, clutching her fiercely, as if he, too, feared time's violence. In his arms, the pain in her chest grew excruciating. She wanted to freeze this moment, hide in it, and never let go.

When they pulled back, Bruno tenderly touched her face, his thumb wiping away a tear she hadn't noticed had escaped.

"Promise me something," he asked, his voice low and desperate.

Her breath caught.

"Promise me you'll wait," he added. "That no matter what happens while I am away, you will not give up on us. I will come back for you, Cat. I do not care how long it takes. Just do not give up."

Her heart fractured. She wanted to tell him the truth, confess everything, and put her brokenness in his hands.

But Junior's shadow murmured, frightening and choking. She nodded, her voice quivering as she said, "I promise."

Bruno's relief was instant. He smiled and then kissed her. The kiss was gentle, delicate, and full of hidden promises. She kissed him back with everything she couldn't express, pouring her love into him as if the kiss might carry across the miles and protect him.

When they separated, he rested his forehead on hers. "When I return, Cat...it's us. No more near misses!" He said.

Her tears flowed freely now, but she maintained a shaky grin as she repeated. "When you come back, I will be here waiting."

The vehicle drove up, its engine roaring, ready to take him back to New York. Voices rose around them: friends yelling his name, clapping his back, and instructors providing last-minute advice. But Bruno's gaze never left hers.

He waved as he boarded, his smile brightening the otherwise gloomy morning. She waved back, her smile faint and brittle.

Then he was gone.

The car swept him away, shrinking against the horizon until he vanished into the gray distance. New York awaited him: Juilliard, Digital Studios, and the future he had left behind.

And Catherina remained, waiting at the gates, her heart hollow, her smile fading as he departed.

That night, back in her hostel room, her phone vibrated with a message.

"I made it home safely. Already missing you. Keep the promise, Cat. I will be counting the days." Bruno said in the text.

She gripped the phone to her chest, her body quivering with tears. "I love you," she said softly into the silence, words he couldn't possibly hear.

Outside her window, the campus lights flickered softly, like frail stars in the dark.

For Bruno, New York represented music, love, and dreams.

Catherina saw her home in Massachusetts as a secret prison, with her silence serving as the lock and Junior as the shadow waiting in the dark.

And as the night progressed, she understood their goodbye was fragile not because of the distance, but because of everything she left unsaid.

Bruno's departure was more than simply a physical barrier; it was the start of a delicate schism between their worlds.

He boarded the plane with music in his heart and determination in his veins, returning to New York not only to finish his studies at Juilliard, but also to prepare for the enormous responsibility that lay ahead of him: the role of CEO at Digital Studios, his father's empire, his inheritance, and his destiny.

Catherina, meanwhile, remained in Cambridge, committed to her own calling. Harvard Law demanded her whole attention, polishing her mind into the litigator she had always aspired to be.

However, no lecture classroom, library desk, or debate chamber could dispel the shadows that followed her steps. Junior's threats still lingered like invisible shackles, and even in his absence, terror infiltrated her life like an unwanted guest.

She had moved out of Junior's flat shortly after her recovery, returning to the relative privacy of her school dormitory. It was safer that way— for her and Bruno. Living under the same roof as the man who had once vowed to murder to keep her had become terrible; returning to college was the only way she could breathe again.

However, space could not quiet remembrance. Every night, when the world was silent, she remembered Bruno's smile at the gate, the promise in his kiss, and the gravity of his pledge to return for her. She lived with that recollection like a flame she couldn't let burn too brightly, afraid that the wind of truth might extinguish it forever.

Bruno envisioned their future, while Catherina feared it. He carried song into the skies of New York, while she carried silence into the walls of Harvard. And between them hung not only miles, but a reality too frightening to mention.

Their goodbye had been fragile because, for the time being, love lived in distance and chains rather than freedom.