Page 49 of Unbreakable Bonds (The Boston Romance #2)

COLE

Warmth through my chest seeing Jeremy, sitting in between my mother and Alisha, listening to my girl, who talks about her work. It's as if he's protecting her from my mom. I don't doubt she expressed her dislike of Alisha to Jeremy. But she better get used to her because my Alex is going nowhere.

When I lived here, Jeremy always knew how to uplift my mood. He listened to me, and tried to get me to express my emotions. Growing older, he encouraged me to speak up and give my parents my genuine opinion. "You can't live their lives, Cole. You deserve to live your own life," he once told me.

As I take the last bite of roasted vegetables, I pay attention to my mother, who's talking with Beatrice.

When I was young, I had to sit at this table for hours while the adults spoke about music, my father's, and later about my piano career.

Even on the days my parents and I were alone, we discussed my grades or the next performance at the dinner table.

My eyes drift to the open door that leads to the room where Samantha and Victor are eating. My brain has a hard time believing my mom invited Victor, only to make sure her granddaughter would not get bored.

"How's the business going, Cole?" George asks.

I snap out of my musings and make eye contact with the man who's sitting opposite me. The last time I saw him, he didn't have the thinning hairline in front, and he weighed a few pounds less. Now his belly is pushing against the buttons of his dress shirt. But his sincere smile has remained.

"You're a hard-working businessman these days. You and your friend, Mr. Brown are a talented team."

I grin. "Yes, we're an excellent duo, and life has been busy." "And how is fatherhood treating you?"

"It was challenging at first, but thanks to this woman," I say, placing my hand on Alisha's shoulder, "it turned out good. I had a lot to learn about teenagers and women’s stuff. She has helped me so much."

"You would have managed alone," my mom remarks.

My eyes snap to her. "No, not in this way. Alisha has been my savior. She's been the best thing coming into my life, Mother."

Alisha places her hand on my upper thigh and squeezes while changing the mood by speaking her unique mind.

"Cole is doing well after I educated him on which tampons to buy, and which chocolate he had to store in the apartment when it’s that time of the month.

" Everyone except my mom bursts out into laughter at Alisha's explicit clarification. God, I love this woman.

"Oh, George, remember how we struggled when we brought Victor home after the adoption? Parenting can be a challenge. But Samantha is a kind young lady, so my compliments to you, Cole."

"Thank you, Beatrice."

"And it's clear she inherited the Walker blue eyes," George says with a smile. "I called your father's eyes 'babe magnets' when he and I were younger. Until he met you, Carmen. From the moment he saw you, he was in love."

The smile my mother shows is genuine—something I have seen little of these last years.

Piano music streams into the room—catching everyone's attention. My lips curl as I recognize Samantha's playing. I've become accustomed to it; it's a unique combination of richness, delicacy, and liveliness.

"Piano music?" my mother says with a tight voice.

"Does Dad's old piano still stand in the other room?

" I ask. She nods. George, who's a professor at Berklee College of Music, is the first to stand and move towards the sound.

I follow him, and soon every person stands and wanders towards George, who is standing in the doorway, completely in awe of what I presume is Samantha playing.

Pride floats through my veins as I stop behind him and watch Samantha's fingers glide over the keys. Protectiveness joins it when I see Victor standing next to the piano, looking at my girl. I'm watching you, young man.

George turns his head and mumbles, "My lord, Cole. She has it too?"

I nod. "Yes, she does. So, is Samantha Berklee material?" "What is she playing?" he asks, still staring at my daughter. "Oh, it's a piece she arranged herself."

My grin widens when George's mouth opens and closes a few times before words come out.

"Jesus, Cole. She's no Berklee material." My brows knit together.

"She's Julliard material," he clarifies.

I hold my breath at his words. "For her, showing this much talent at this age needs encouragement and nourishment with the utmost care and guidance from an expert."

Alisha touches my hand. "Cole, you need to check on your mom. She hurried out of here, crying."

I shrug. "Oh, she'll be fine."

Jeremy clears his throat and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Please tell me you didn't intend to shock your mother with the news of her granddaughter inheriting the piano gift?"

When I don’t respond he sighs. "Cole, your mom has changed a lot in the last few years. Please talk to her."

I raise my brow at his surprising words. I glance back at Samantha, who's playing her last notes.

"You go to your mother. I'll stay here with Samantha and the others," my girl offers while giving my hand a short squeeze.

I let out a tired huff, but nod and stroll towards the kitchen.

Why is Alisha worried about my mother when she doesn't treat her with the respect she deserves?

And Jeremy, since when is he choosing my mom's side?

I halt when I step over the threshold. I shake my head to be sure my eyes are correct in their observation—but they are.

My mom's standing near the kitchen sink.

Her shoulders hang, and her eyes are glassy with layers of tears.

They drip from her eyelids as she blinks and roll down her cheeks.

She bites her bottom lip tightly to hide any sound trying to escape.

When she sees me, her lower lip quivers as words make their way out of her mouth.

"She…" she begins, yet what follows comes with a tremor.

"S-She can play. Why did you lie when I asked you? "

I snort at her accusation. "She has kept it hidden until recently. Her mother told her it could upset her father and his family, and she made her promise to hide it until she was eighteen."

"What?"

"When I met Jessica, I told her about my talent, and I explained to her that if my child would have a gift for playing an instrument, I would protect it from my family and other controlling people."

A new flood of tears slides over her cheeks, as she walks my way. My heart throbs in my throat when she hugs me and whispers, "I'm so sorry, Cole."

My mind deals with surging perplexity. One moment, she's the distant mother I've had most of my life, and the next, she transforms into an emotional being, who is crying and hugging me.

I swallow a few times to remove the lump in my throat. What am I supposed to do? My body ignores my chaotic mind and reacts by placing my arms around her.

Hugging my mother like this is foreign, but I've longed for this simple act of endearment and closeness since I was a child.

"I'm so sorry, Cole. I did it because I love you."

My body temperature rises at my mom's weird words. "What do you mean? What are you sorry for, Mom?" I ask.

She removes her arms from around me, and as she takes a step backward, she fumbles with the silver heart-shaped locket she once received from my father. I wait as my scrambling thoughts try to figure out what she means.

"When Jessica came here, I was still grieving and assumed she was lying."

My mind spins, but when my brain puzzles it together, I stumble backward until my back hits the doorpost. Jessica came to Boston?