I don’t speak because this feels like Dutch purging all the secrets that plague him.
“The music stopped the moment I awoke from my operation and the only time I hear it…is when I’m with you,” he confesses, finally meeting my eyes. “That means something. I knew it from the first moment I saw you.”
My heart swells.
“Being without music is like being without breath and each breath I take feels borrowed, like my time is running out. So, I need to show you something just in case this is the last time.”
“The last time for what?” I’m afraid to ask, but I need to know.
Dutch stares at me, nothing but sorrow blanketing us both.
“Why do I feel like this is goodbye?”
A heavy breath leaves him before he takes a seat behind the piano.
I don’t dare move.
He strokes the piano as he would a lover
