RIGBY'S POV:
Clover is already sitting behind the piano when I arrive. Her fingers are moving seamlessly, crafting a melody so gentle and intricate that I don't know if anyone else would be able to play it the way she is.
The sight of her like this, doing what she does best, is almost enough to make my anger just wash away. But I cling on to it, desperate not to lose it.
I don't want us to get distracted and just pretend that everything is fine. I want us to move forward from this sh*t.
There's a tear in her eye when she starts singing and I find myself wondering if it's my fault she's crying. Or if something happened in the car on the way back. If one of the guys upset her, I'll have them, I find myself thinking to myself, a sudden urge to protect her rising up.
"I never knew what lo
