Chapter 29
The fingers that had explored every inch of me just moments ago now delicately strum the strings of his guitar. It’s more than an instrument in his hands—it’s an extension of him. The first chords of the familiar melody whisper across the quiet room, tender and soulful.
“That’s the song you sent me,” I murmur.
His lips quirk in a smile. “Hm-hm. It has lyrics now.”
Eager to hear them, I curl into the corner of the couch with the soothing lavender latte that he’d made blue, always going the extra mile to create something special for me.
I cradle its warmth as his voice joins the melody, deep and smooth, filling the small space between us.
His eyes close, pouring himself into the song—not just any song, but mine.
Each word feels like a confession, shattering me with emotion. His voice cracks around the edges in the most vulnerable places. The strum of every note more penetrating, every lyric weaving into my heart.
The hue of the lake
The sky, when it wakes
Each twilight as it falls
You’re perfect in your all
My Beautiful Blue
Mi hermosa Azul
I live for the color of you
An ocean of vastness
A velvet blue canvas
The hint of sunrise
You make me come alive
My beautiful Blue
Mi hermosa Azul
I live for the color of you
An indigo dream
A soft, moving stream
I fell from the start
Now I give you my heart
My beautiful Blue
Mi hermosa Azul
I live for the color of you
Love all the wonders . . . and colors of . . . Bluuue.
When the last note fades, silence takes its place on a held breath. His eyes slowly open, finding mine with such tenderness that my chest aches.
“That was beautiful,” I whisper, my voice merely a breath. “I can’t believe you wrote a song for me.”
He sets the guitar down, leaning closer. His fingers brush my cheek as gently as the lyrics echoing in my mind. “Mi hermosa Azul, my beautiful Blue, you inspire me. Getting to know you, to experience you, has been one of the greatest gifts of my life. I love you, Lexie.”
My heart swells so full it feels like it might burst. But alongside the rush of joy comes something grimmer—the dark undercurrents of secrecy and evasion. My happiness is blocked by a hidden truth.
Alexandra Townsen.
The name hovers over me like a black cloud. With Chaz’s love laid bare, my secret feels monstrous, like an immovable tree trunk has fallen across my chest.
I open my mouth, but the words are trapped. I can’t say them. Not now. Not after the depth of what he’s just given me.
But if I don’t, every moment that comes after will only magnify my betrayal. The longer I let the truth stay silent, the bigger the explosion will be when it finally comes out. He’ll blame me for letting him fall in love with a lie.
My heart pounds viciously. My skin burns the way it does when the anxiety in me reaches its boiling point. Facts—I scramble to find them, but nothing can comfort me through this. My hands tremble.
“Lex?” Chaz eases the mug away before it spills and sets it on the table. His brow creases with concern, the usual warmth in his eyes replaced by sadness. This wasn’t the reaction he expected.
But that look in his eyes is so familiar. Why is it so familiar? It’s that same sense of déjà vu I had when I first saw him, and it grows stronger whenever I see his childhood pictures. Then, out of nowhere, it strikes me like a bolt of lightning splitting the sky.
I see it so clearly. A boy sitting in the ostentatious reception area of Townsen Industries, his head bowed, curls falling over his forehead, shoulders slumped under a sadness far too heavy for someone so young.
I was ten, and we’d stopped by to see my father.
He’d been in a foul mood. Something about a woman being there and causing trouble.
I wasn’t listening to the details; I just remembered how furious he was.
My mother left with me soon after, and that was when I saw him.
The boy, I’m now sure, was Chaz. He couldn’t have been much older than me.
Eleven or twelve. But I felt his pain; it was that palpable. It seemed to claw at me.
“Why is he so sad?” I whispered to my mother, my gaze lingering on his downcast face. He looked up, and I saw the tears in his sepia-flecked eyes.
“That boy is none of your concern, Alexandra,” she snapped, her tone sharp and final as she quickly tugged me along without a second glance.
I thought of him long after, but I knew better than to ask again. Then, I guess the memory faded until this moment when it gripped me like a vice, squeezing the air from my lungs. I manage to piece together the fragments, and the picture they make shakes me to my core.
Chaz’s father must have worked for Townsen Industries. There’s no other explanation for why he would have been there. Why it was that day and how it related to the woman causing trouble, I don’t know. But I know they’re connected just as surely as I know it was him.
My stomach coils like barbed wire, and bile rises in my throat. The corporate machine my father controls—the machine I’ve spent my adult life wanting to escape—is the same one Chaz blames for the death of his father.
What perverse twist of fate would allow this? Of all the towns, of all the places, of all the people—how could this happen?
“Lex, what’s going on?” His voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. “Talk to me. Is it because I said I love you? I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
He reaches for my hand, and I flinch, guilt crashing over me in tortured waves. “I . . .” My voice falters, breaking under the pressure of everything I can’t say. I shake my head helplessly. “I’m sorry.”
His hand hovers between us, his voice calm and steady despite the sad confusion in his eyes. “Whatever you’re thinking—feeling—you can tell me. We’ll figure it out.”
I want to believe that. I want to believe that the man who had just poured his heart out in song could somehow still look at me the same way after finding out the truth. But how could he? How could anyone love the daughter of a man who stole someone so beloved from him?
“I’m going to be sick.” I bolt to the bathroom in the basement, barely making it before my stomach turns inside out. Retching, the contents of my dinner spill into the toilet, but the guilt and sorrow remain relentless and gutting.