NovelNext Chapter 9: Come In
Chapter 9: Come In
Emily Thompson stood at the villa's gate, her fingers tracing the frayed edges of the sheet music she held.
"Would you like to come inside?" I asked, stepping aside to make room.
She shook her head, her eyes drifting past me toward the second-floor window.
Behind the sheer curtains, Percy's silhouette flickered like a shadow in the afternoon light.
"I spent three days with him," Emily said suddenly, her voice low and almost fragile.
"In the study... we talked about Mozart, Chopin, all the old classical masters."
I listened quietly.
"But the second we left that room," she gave a bitter little laugh, "all he talked about was you."
"He took one bite of the strawberry cake I made, then put his fork down. Said it was your favorite flavor."
She looked down at the sheet music in her hands, her voice growing even softer.
"The plush dolls in the living room... he pointed at every single one, told me you stayed up all night sewing them. He even remembered all their names."
Emily let out a shaky breath.
"The most ridiculous part? I asked if he'd ever divorce you. He didn't even hesitate. Not for a second."
She grabbed my wrist then, her fingers cold and trembling.
"Do you know what his face looked like? Like I'd just told the most ridiculous joke he'd ever heard."
I could feel the desperation in her grip.
"That night, I lost it," she said, releasing my wrist as if it burned her.
"I stood naked in front of him... thinking maybe I could make him see me."
The night wind stirred her hair across her tear-streaked face.
"But the way he looked at me..." Her voice broke. "Like I was something dirty."
I glanced up at the second floor.
Percy's shadow had disappeared.
"He called me vulgar," Emily said, stuffing the sheet music into my hands.
"Said he never wanted to see me again."
Her shoulders sagged, her voice just a whisper.
"And even then... even after all of that, he clung to one of those dolls you made. Crying your name."
She turned to go but stumbled slightly on the uneven stone path.
"Give this to him for me," she said over her shoulder. "Think of it as... my goodbye."
I stood there for a long time, watching her figure disappear into the falling dusk.
Lately, Percy had been acting different.
He started conversations first. Helped me in the kitchen.
Today, he was even more insistent. He wanted to show me some mysterious "gift."
"Come in."
He stood at the door of the study, hand stretched out to me.
I instinctively stepped back.
The memory of being shoved out of that room still stung.
"Don't be afraid." His hand closed firmly around my wrist. "From now on, you're always welcome here."
On the heavy oak desk sat a beautifully carved wooden box.
He opened it slowly, revealing a neat stack of plane tickets and printed itineraries.
"Vienna next month," he said, his eyes lighting up.
"I got us tickets to a concert at the Golden Hall... a tour of Schönbrunn Palace..."
I flipped through the papers in disbelief. "But... you hate traveling."
He smiled, squeezing my hand gently.
"Worth it," he said. "If it's with you."
His palm was warm against mine, reminding me of sunlight filtering through the trees back in Dali.
"Oh, almost forgot," he said, pulling a photo frame from the drawer.
Inside was a picture of us from our wedding day.
The frame's edges were carved with delicate musical notes.
"I rearranged our wedding march," Percy said, his ears flushing pink.
"When you hear it... maybe we can decide if we want to renew our vows."