Page 12 of When We Fall: Part Two

He grunted and kissed me before I went to Enzo, who didn’t say a word. He gave me a kiss, and I backed away, taking in the concern on his handsome face.

“He misses you,” Fox said as I went and hugged him. “Have fun. You deserve to have a good day with him.”

“Thanks, Foxy.” I squeezed him tightly. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

I released him and went outside to find my dad already in his car. I slid into the passenger seat and noted Enzo watching from the window like he always did. I gave him a wave as my dad started the car.

We pulled onto the street, a car pulling out behind us.

Dad sighed.

“I guess I shouldn’t be upset your fiancé is looking out for you with protection,” Dad muttered. “But I also hate that you need it.”

“He means well,” I said.

We were quiet for a long time as Dad drove us into the city.

“Did Mom come?” I finally asked.

“No. She was meeting with her gardening club.”

I nodded. Mom loved her garden.

“So just us?”

He nodded and parked the car in front of a music store minutes later. I looked up at the building, then at him.

“What are we doing here?”

“I booked us some time here for the day,” he said.

“What?” I crinkled my brows at him.

“It occurred to me that you and I have never made music together. I figured we’d spend the day doing that.”

“Dad… really?” My eyes burned with unshed tears. He’d never shown interest in music, but I’d learned that he’d had his own band and made music before he married, and that he struggled and didn’t want that life for me.

“Yeah.” He gave me a sad smile. “Come on.”

I eagerly got out and followed him inside. He checked us in, and we were led to a room filled with instruments, a small stage, and a recording booth.

“Wow. I didn’t know they did this here,” I said, looking around.

“Yeah. I used to come here when I was at Mayfair,” he said.

I looked at him, confused. “What? You graduated from Wayne State.”

He nodded. “I did, but I transferred in. I spent three years at Mayfair before returning to Michigan and graduating.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I frowned at him. I had no idea he’d gone to Mayfair. He had never once mentioned it.

“I have a lot to tell you today. Let’s make some music first, though, OK? Then we’ll talk.”

I nodded, not knowing what else to say. Instead, I picked up a guitar and sat, strumming it softly. He sat beside me with a guitar in hand and joined in seamlessly.

He was full of surprises, it seemed.