Chapter 44 Healing Notes #2
“Oh.” Her cheeks go pink. It’s the first time either of us has brought up that day. “You didn’t have to get me anything—you’ve already done so much.”
“I’d like to do a great deal more.”
Her breathing catches, her gaze lingering on mine before she loosens the drawstring and pulls out the bracelet. The pieces of sea glass clink softly, sparkling like undulating waves.
“Oh wow,” she breathes. “This is beautiful.”
“Something to remind you of Whitstable. And me.”
“Who says I’m going anywhere?” she teases, and the earth feels more solid beneath me.
She struggles to secure the bracelet around her wrist.
“Here—allow me,” I say, fastening the clasp.
Against her sun-warmed skin, the turquoise beads glow, the bracelet’s handmade charm far lovelier than I’d imagined.
“Sean and his mother helped me make it.”
“How clever…Thank you,” Lily says breathlessly.
“You’re welcome,” I say, my voice lower than I intend, heat threading through my words.
Her gaze lingers on mine, a blush dusting her cheeks before she looks away.
I could kiss her.
God, I could.
The way she plays with the bracelet shyly, avoiding my eyes, tempts me. My breathing shallows as I imagine the feel of her hair tangled through my fingers as I lean in.
Suddenly, she grabs the book and clears her throat as though the moment has suddenly become too much.
“Shall we continue tomorrow?” she asks, voice wavering slightly. “Reading?”
I draw back, smoothing my shirt as I stand.
“No. Tomorrow I’m going to London.”
She looks up in surprise. “Why?”
I keep my expression perfectly solemn as I help her up. “That, I cannot tell you. It’s a secret.”
She groans—half-exasperation, half-laugh.
A wry smile tugs at my mouth. “You don’t like surprises, do you?”
“Not really. There have been a lot of things out of my control lately. Although…I think I’m doing better. And my music is coming along well…”
“Very well, I’d say.”
She smiles and tucks a loose strand behind her ear, the movement captivating my attention for a beat too long.
“So no surprises,” I say with a low clear of my throat. “Alright, here it is—I’m meeting with a luthier tomorrow. I made an appointment to ask what could be done to restore your guitar.”
Emotion flickers across her face, a mix of hope and fear. “You think it can be repaired?”
“I’m not sure. I was going to show him photos and get his opinion.”
She frowns. “Why not just take my guitar if you’re going in person?”
“I didn’t want to take it without your permission.”
“But…why not just ask me?”
“Because I didn’t want to raise your hopes,” I say quietly. Because you’ve had enough people let you down. “I don’t know if a repair is possible—or if you would even agree to fixing it if it was.”
She stills, the only movement her fingertips brushing the glass beads. “I can handle bad news, you know,” she says. “I’m not…fragile.”
“I know.” I hold her gaze. “You’ve shown more strength in the months I’ve known you than most people show in years. This is simply something I wanted to do for you.”
She smiles, fond and amused, and I falter.
“What?” I ask.
“Brandon, you flew around the world to bring my mum here because you knew how much I needed her. You’ve done countless other things to make my life easier.
And now you want to drive back and forth between here and London.
And all of it instead of just talking to me.
” Ever gentle, she adds, “I know you’re trying to protect me, but I’m okay.
And I don’t think I need fixing anymore. ”
My throat tightens, voice hoarse. “I never thought you did.”
I reach for the usual excuses, but I finally recognise what they are: fear dressed up as logic and righteousness.
If I keep choosing safety, I’ll lose her.
“You’re right, of course,” I say.
We exchange a tentative smile, and an idea occurs to me—one that should have been obvious.
“Lily, will you come with me to London tomorrow?”
Her answer is immediate and bright. “Yes. I’d love to!”
She hugs me—a quick embrace that’s over far too soon, though her fingers slowly trail down my arms before she steps back.
Then her gaze drops to the bracelet, her eyes lighting up with fresh excitement. “Hey…this might be a long shot, but do you think there’s any chance the luthier could use the sea glass somehow?”
“To repair your guitar? I have no idea. From what I’ve researched, he’ll use tonewood for the body. But perhaps he could add sea glass to the rosette around the sound hole?”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” She’s restless, buzzing with energy as she glances at the setting sun. “We could go to the beach now and collect more sea glass.”
She slips her fingers into mine, tugging, hopeful.
“We certainly can. But first, we wrap your cast.”
She makes a face. “Or…you could just carry me.”
I arch a brow. “I thought you weren’t fragile.”
“Well, I never said I wasn’t persuadable,” she says primly, looping her arm through mine and pulling me towards the side gate.
“Then let me persuade you,” I growl, scooping her up over my shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she squeals as I head for the back door.
“Carrying you.”
“But the ocean is that way,” she sulks as I enter the house.
“Patience. You’ll thank me later when your cast isn’t waterlogged.”
“And I’ll thank you for putting me down,” she huffs.
I set her down onto the edge of the counter, loose waves falling over her face. Gorgeous.
She blinks at me, stunned and too breathless to speak.
My voice drops to a low rumble as I hold her gaze. “What else will you thank me for?”
Her lips part, but no words come out.
I chuckle and start searching the cabinets for supplies.