The Sound of Forever

Chapter 45

Chapter Forty-Five

Keane

The sound of the fire crackling in the hearth fills the quiet corners of the living room, a soothing rhythm against the stillness of the night. Rowan sits on the worn leather couch, leaning back like he owns the place, a bottle of water in his hand and that signature smirk on his face that always manages to get under my skin.

“So, why did you need a kite ASAP?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as he takes a sip.

For a second I regret asking him for this favor. But knowing Rayne is going to love it makes it all better.

“The girl next door needs it,” I reply, keeping my tone casual. “Hers is falling apart, and I don’t think it can hold up much longer.”

“Girl next door?” he echoes, frowning. “You’re actually socializing with the Valencia family?”

“You know Julie’s last name?” I ask, thrown off. I don’t know it—why the fuck does he?

He nods, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. I ran a background check. I wanted to make sure they were safe to have around.”

“It’s an aunt and a little girl,” I say, my tone laced with annoyance. “How dangerous can they be?”

“You’d be surprised,” he replies. Then, his expression shifts, more serious. “Glad to see you’re actually doing something other than wallowing in self-pity and trying to revive your career.”

“I’m not trying to get my career back,” I protest, the words coming out sharper than I intended. “That would be stupid. What am I supposed to do, announce that I’m alive and turn myself into a goddamn freak show?”

Rowan shakes his head. He gives me a look that says, Chill the fuck out. “No, but I don’t understand why you’re still so obsessed with playing music the way you used to.”

“Because music was everything to me, Rowe,” I snap, my voice cracking just enough to betray the rawness beneath it. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at, the only thing that made sense. I just want to feel . . . something again.”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studies me. “So, what have you been up to besides fixing your neighbor’s kite and brooding about your past?”

“Yoga,” I respond. “What about you? Still trying to be the Mother Teresa of our time?”

“That’s not a thing, but if you must know, I went to Philly’s wedding,” he says after a pause, his tone neutral.

“Oh,” I say, bracing myself for the punch that doesn’t come. “I hope it was everything she wanted.”

“It was nice,” he says simply. “She looked happy. They both did. You okay with that?”

“My ex-fiancée got married to the love of her life,” I say, forcing the words out as casually as I can. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” he asks, his gaze narrowing.

“Totally fine,” I insist, though the lie sits awkwardly in the air between us. It feels uncomfortable, like it should’ve been me because I was there first. And there goes the asshole wanting it all not because of love. See, that’s exactly why I didn’t deserve her. “I’m just surprised you were there, given how things ended between us. You’re not exactly the ‘wedding type.’”

He scoffs, leaning back. “Philly’s family, even if things between you two are ancient history. Besides, I was a plus-one.”

“You had a date?” I sit up straighter, intrigued. “Now this I have to hear about. And your ex was there to see the whole thing, huh? Interesting.”

Rowan shrugs, though there’s tension in his jaw. “Constantine and I have been over for six years. I knew he’d be there, I mean, it was his sister’s wedding. But the thing with him is that he never wanted our relationship public, so it doesn’t matter. Besides, it’s not like I cared. It was never that deep. You hid Philly too.”

“I . . . it was a way to protect her,” I claim, but really, it was probably a way to protect myself.

“I hope you’ve figured your shit out now,” he states. “You know, for when you fall in love again.”

I laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “Maybe I have. Not that it matters. I don’t plan to be with anyone.”

The words feel hollow the second they leave my mouth. The truth is, I wouldn’t mind seeing where things could go with Julianna.

Spending time with her is . . . different. She doesn’t make me feel like I have to prove anything. I like the person I’m getting to know, and that scares me more than I’d like to admit.

Rowan studies me for a long moment, his expression serious now. “You’ve been out here for months, Keane. Away from the city, away from everyone. Are you planning to keep this up forever? Hide from everything—including love?”

“I’m not hiding,” I say, though even I can hear how hollow the words sound. “I’m regrouping.”

“Regrouping,” Rowan echoes, the skepticism thick in his voice. “And how’s that working out for you?”

I don’t answer right away because I don’t know how to. Some days, it feels like I’m making progress, like I’m finally starting to piece myself back together. Other days, it feels like I’m running in circles, waiting for something to change without knowing what.

“Honestly, there might be someone,” I admit.

Rowan’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowing. “Who?”

“Julianna,” I say, her name soft on my tongue.

He doesn’t say anything right away, his gaze sharp as it searches mine. Finally, he nods. “And?”

“And . . . she’s different,” I say, the words coming slower now as I try to make sense of the mess in my head. “She’s strong in a way that’s quiet but unshakable. She’s been through hell, but she’s still standing. And she . . . she makes me feel like maybe I can stand too.”

Rowan leans back, crossing his arms as he watches me. “Sounds like she’s good for you.”

“She is,” I admit, my voice barely audible. “But that’s what scares me. The last thing I want is to drag her into my life. It’s . . . complicated.”

“Maybe she doesn’t see it as a mess,” Rowan says, his tone thoughtful. “Maybe she sees it as a chance to build something together.”

Maybe she does. She’s the brightest thing I’ve ever seen, like staring at the sun and not caring if it burns. She’s special in ways I didn’t know existed, beautiful in a way that isn’t just about how she looks. Even though, God knows, she’s stunning. It’s in the way she moves, the way she speaks, the way she radiates kindness like it’s effortless.

She blinds me with her hope, her stubborn belief that life can still be good, even when it’s not. And the way she smiles? It’s like she doesn’t just light up a room—she lights up everything, even the darkest corners of me.

But having her? It feels impossible. Not for someone like me, someone whose hands are stained with mistakes, someone who’s spent too long hiding from the world. She deserves someone whole, someone who can stand beside her in the light.

And me? I don’t even know if I’m allowed to stand there long enough to reach for her.