What He Never Knew (What He Doesn't Know, #3)(33)

“I honestly find that incredibly hard to believe,” he said, standing straighter as he watched me.

I wrapped my hand around the crystal hanging from my neck with a shrug. “Yeah, well, the piano was the only boyfriend I ever really had time for. I prioritized it over everything, including any social outing that might have somehow landed me in a romantic relationship. The only boyfriends I ever had were the dukes and kings and princes in my favorite books.”

Reese smirked. “That’s what makes you different, you know that right?”

“What, the fact that I tanked my social life so I could focus on piano? And still do?”

“Exactly that. I mean, look at me. I have the talent. I was born with it, as unfair as that is. It just always came naturally to me. And I love playing, I think that’s obvious.” He shrugged. “But, I wouldn’t make the sacrifices to get anywhere with it. There’s a reason I have my masters from Juilliard and I’m a teacher at a prep school in Pennsylvania, playing at The Kinky Starfish for extra cash.”

“You didn’t want it,” I assessed.

And he agreed. “I didn’t want it. Not bad enough to do what it takes, anyway. For me, just being able to play piano and make enough to pay my bills has always been enough. Past that?” He shook his head. “I didn’t have the drive you do. And that’s what makes you different. It’s what will make you successful.”

I smiled, crossing my arms over my chest as my eyes fell to the granite, a blush spreading on my cheeks. “Thank you.”

It was strange, hearing such a genuine compliment from my teacher. The first few teachers I worked with were harsh, showing their love in the way they yelled at me or demanded more from my playing. And I accepted that, because I just assumed that’s how it worked. The same was true when I went to Bramlock, when I started working with the professor who would ultimately drive me to injury.

I swallowed, his face clear in my mind as that box I’d shoved him in creaked open.

“So,” Reese said, pulling me back to the moment. “Is that why you said no to Danny when he asked you out?”

My chest tightened, thoughts still caught back on a warm night in December in north Florida. I shook them away, clamping my figurative hands on the lid of the box threatening to open and spill out all over the counter between us. I considered for the briefest moment being honest in my response to Reese’s question about Danny, considered telling him the truth. But I didn’t know where to even start. I didn’t know how to tell Reese — or anyone — what had happened to me.

And there was no point in telling anyone, anyway.

I’d learned that lesson.

“I can’t really say yes to anyone right now,” I said, voice soft and low. “Right now, it’s just about the piano for me.”

And I can’t stomach the thought of anyone else touching me because the only one who ever has didn’t ask me before he did.

I felt Reese’s eyes on me, and I knew he wanted to ask more questions. I knew he saw the same pain in me that I saw in him. And maybe that was the only reason we saw it at all — because we lived it. You had to understand what that felt like to be able to recognize it, like there was an exclusive club for the eternally heartbroken.

“You did good today,” he said after a moment. “We’re making progress already, and it’s only been a few weeks. So, just know your dedication is paying off.”

I smiled, making a noise with my next breath before popping off the barstool and looking at Reese. “Awesome. Looks like I have a prayer of saving my long-term relationship with my piano boyfriend, after all.”

Reese chuckled at that, and we slipped back into easy conversation as we went over my homework until we saw each other for our next lesson. He walked me to the door, the same way he had with Charlie, and I climbed into my car with my chest still tight.

I stared at the wheel with the key in the ignition but not turned for what felt like a lifetime, Charlie’s eyes in my mind just as much as my professor’s.

Reese and I shared a similar pain, but there was a difference — because he didn’t run from his.

I’d fled Bramlock the morning after my professor assaulted me, too much of a coward to even tell my roommate that I wasn’t coming back. And here was Reese, living day in and day out with the woman he loved, the woman who didn’t love him in return, prancing around him and reminding him of everything he had lost.

They worked together.

He was a part of their family.

Reese thought I was the dedicated one, the strong one, the driven one. I may have given up what was necessary to chase my dream, but it was him who was strong. It was him who was dedicated.

He loved that woman so much that he put himself through a daily self-flagellation just to keep her in his life.

I didn’t know how to feel about that. I didn’t know if I was even allowed to feel anything at all.

But as I turned the key and backed out of his driveway, it was the only thing on my mind.





Reese



The following week, Sarah stood beside me backstage at the end-of-the-year concert with wide eyes and hands wringing together like she wanted to squeeze the sweat out of them.

“You’re going to be fine,” I assured her, straightening one of my students’ ties. He smiled up at me when I was done, scampering off to join his friends as I stood again. “And once you hear these kids play, you’ll understand why you shouldn’t be nervous at all. They’re still learning basics.”