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“And you? Do I have you?”

I was terrified that if I let Tully marinate in her hurt, she’d never purge it. I knew I loved Tully from the moment I met her. Before I knew her name, her scent, or anything else. My soul recognized her. If I could have marked her in the hospital, I would’ve in a second.

“I could ask the same question.” Her snort rumbled against my chest.

“So, ask it.”

“Do I have you?” She blinked up at me through her long lashes and my heart sped up.

“You have me on my knees. You have me by the throat. My bones, my blood, yours. There is nothing in this world that could take me away from you, not even yourself.”

Tully’s nails dug through the shirt on my back and my eyes fluttered closed.

“You say it like you’d die for me,” Tully breathed like it hurt.

I shook my head and pulled her into me. She’d run soon, but I wanted the stamp of me on her skin when she did and the echo of my voice in her ears. I was a calm person, but not with Tully. From the beginning, I’d known she was it for me. Her fig and honey filled my lungs.

“I never really lived until I met you, Tully,” I whispered.

The space between our lips filled with our mingled breath. The only way I wanted to live.

“I feel the same way, Lloyd Yarrow.”

She pressed her lips to mine so quickly it might have been an exhale. I ran my tongue along my bottom lip and gathered the gift of honey.

Tully ran, of course. And I let her go, of course.

Because her sweetness infused my mouth, and it tasted like hope.

43

Pan

The sparkling water didn’t cut through the desperate longing for something stronger. I flattened my palms on the table to curb the jitters. I could handle dinner with my parents,I could. I remembered my sponsor's advice when I rang him earlier and focused on my breath. This feeling would pass.

“Armond said he would help you with your little hand hiccup, if it’s motivation you need.” My mother played with the string of fat pearls around her neck.

I bit my tongue. If motivation was all I needed, I would have healed years ago.

My father pursed his lips. “He’s a genius, Kathy, but lazy.”

Their eyes clashed and I let out a deep, audible sigh. I picked at my steak, marveling at how their company could make scotch fillet taste like trash. I thought after our last meetingthat they would leave me be, but they’d dismissed my diagnosis completely.

“He’s notlazy,” my mother hissed, turning her narrowed gaze on me. “We just don’t want to see you waste your talents.”

My talents?

A laugh withered on my tongue. I was a train wreck, and they were the only people who wouldn’t accept it. It started with stiffness, which I shook off. I’d been doing hours of drills since I could sit at a piano. It was only when I played Tears of the Moon that I noticed. It was like my finger would hesitate and I couldn’t move it. The connection between my thoughts and the was action delayed. My fingers, once stiff, now curled inward and no amount of stretching could stop it.

Armond, my mentor, helped me keep it a secret. My doctor and occupational therapists worked with me to take tests, MRIs, and, finally, the diagnosis. There was something in my brain stopping me from playing. It was Armond who heard drugs could help, which is why he offered them.

“You’re not listening. I can play piano, but it will never be at that same level again.”

My father made a noise of disgust, scrunching his napkin up in his fist. He noticed the attention we’d garnered and let it fall to the table in a crumpled ball.

“We poured thousands of dollars into your education. Your father would be disgusted to see what has become of you.”

My mother nodded along like a bobble-head, and I fought the tight ball of tangled emotion that begged me to lash out. I craved SubduX. It rushed like an echo through my veins, and my fingers shook as I took a sip of water. SubduX wouldn’t have let their words past my skin.