The Only Song (Only You)

43. Jaxon

Chapter 43

Jaxon

I stayed as calm as I could while Sadie was with me, but as soon as the doors closed, my calm dissipated. The walls are thick, blocking out the sound of her audition, so all I can hear is the pounding of my heart. It’s not that I’m nervous she won’t get in. She will. But still, I pace anxiously about the door, my feet pressing marks into the plush velvet carpet, impatient like a worried parent outside a hospital room.

It was the right decision to email the symphony. When they first called me, I was deep in my depression, unable to see past the darkness of having no music in my life. I guess I should thank Xander for bringing me to LA because the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew. I promised myself this would be the last thing that I’d keep from her, but this could be her chance. All I had to do was get her to agree to the audition. And she did.

She’s perfect for it. Always was, and always will be.

Like she is to me.

When I told them that they needed to hear her audition, I didn’t mean it to seem like she’s the next best thing, when in fact, she’s better . She’s not riddled with the injury and the pain I have to endure. She’s not scared about whether or not she’ll make it through the next concert or tour. She’s not searching for healing like I am.

She deserves this. She deserved it years ago.

I hear a faint applause and I stop in my tracks. Is it over?

The door bursts open and any attempt I had to seem like I was nonchalant and patiently waiting is out the window as Sadie smacks right into me.

“Shit!” she cries as I blurt, “Sorry!”

I wait for the moment she’ll pounce on me, dig her claws in about meddling. Instead, she surprises me. Sadie steps back, crimson red hair cascading over her shoulders, her violin and bow in one hand, her other hand clutching her stomach as she tips her head back and laughs .

“I don’t know why, but I’m feeling offended,” I say. She cackles harder. I reach to take her violin should she accidentally drop the precious instrument, but she waves a hand saying she’s got it.

“Sorry!” she pants, catching her breath from her fit of laughter. “I’m just… I’m just so… ”

My lips stretch into a smile, her hazel eyes shimmering brightly. “Relieved it’s over?”

She nods slowly. “ So relieved. They said they’ll call in a few weeks if…”

“You’re gonna get in,” I say confidently. She peers up at me, gold flecks in the depths of her eyes that crinkle as she smiles.

“I have a question about something, though.” Her lip quirks, a small smirk on her lips. My stomach drops, instantly knowing what’s coming.

My hands drop from her shoulders as I avert my gaze. Selfishly, I want a little more peacefulness before she might run away again, so I say, “Pack up first. Then we’ll talk.”

And without thinking, I kiss her forehead.

Her lips part at the gesture, but all I can think about is buying myself time before this inevitably comes crashing down. I awkwardly shuffle, not looking her in the eye as she begins to pack up.

At least she practiced with me this entire week.

At least she auditioned and came out laughing.

At least she let me be here for her when she could’ve pushed me away.

“Done.” She pivots, clasping her violin case shut. I reach out a hand, gesturing for her to give it to me. With shy eyes, she does.

“Let’s go for a walk?” I ask.

“Sure.”

I sling her case over my shoulder and she falls into step with me as we exit the front doors. The studio steps face the corner of a busy intersection where a cafe’s tables spill out onto the sidewalk, the aroma of coffee spilling through its doors.

I pull the other strap of Sadie’s case over my shoulder to secure it as we walk down the steps to the stoplight. I press the walk button. “So, how did it go?”

“Surprisingly… well, I think. I felt like I was going to forget all the music before I stepped in, but once I was in there… it just all clicked.” She smiles contentedly, and my chest beams with pride.

“I bet they loved it,” I say.

The walk sign flickers on and we cross the street.

“One of the panelists said something that I thought was… interesting.”

“What did she say?” My voice comes out strained. Here it comes .

“That she received an email from Jaxon Tanner telling them they need to call me for an audition.”

My head dips as we walk slowly by an old thrift store, nail salon, and clothing boutique.

I steal a glance in her direction to gauge how she must feel, but based on her tone, she doesn’t seem mad. I feel guilty nonetheless.

“I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I know that, in the past, I… I didn’t tell things to you straight but—” I sigh exasperatedly. “I didn’t want you to lose out on the opportunity. ”

“Did they reach out to you first?” she asks, eyes ahead rather than looking at me.

“Yes.”

“And… you didn’t want to audition yourself?”

I blink. My step falters for a moment.

She doesn’t know. Of course not because I haven’t told her.

Finally, I have something to say she won’t find out from someone else. At least, I hope she hasn’t found out.

“I retired… From violin,” I murmur quietly.

Sadie stops in her tracks. “What?”

Good, she doesn’t know.

“Since when? Why?” she asks. She’s stopped thoughtlessly in the middle of the sidewalk. I have to pull her to the side before the people behind us might knock her over. “Jaxon!”

“I’m going to answer. Just wait.” I look above her head and see open grass and trees ahead. “Let’s head to that park.”

“Jaxon, stop avoiding the question.” Her steely tone is back and she’s probably right. I am avoiding the question. Aside from Max and Xander, I don’t think I’ve even broached the question myself.

I pull her back to the sidewalk and we start making our way to the park. “Since New York.”

“What!” she cries, a little too loud. Her brow crinkles, then smoothens with realization. “Your injury…”

I nod sadly. I think about how long it took to rehab after each rehearsal and performance. That even with all that work, it still barely dented the pain.

“The pain was too much. Too hard to keep up with. It picked at my confidence in ways that left me confused and agonized. Like how could something I love cause me so much pain?”

Sadie’s pace slows as it sinks into her mind. Her face contorted in an expression that looks like all her computations of my status, talent, ego and career don’t match up.

“But… you’re perfect,” she whispers.

I laugh. “I’m far from perfect, Sadie. In fact, I’d argue that I am hardly ever perfect. I didn’t name myself the Perfect Pitched Prodigy, the media did. And maybe I am a prodigy. Prodigies’ careers usually die young. But perfect?” I shake my head. “Far from it.”

“I meant you’re perfect to me.”

I freeze, my eyes slicing toward her to check if I heard correctly. She looks at me with glowing golden hazel eyes.

“You’ve always been perfect to me. Even if six years ago you kissed me, then fucked up the start of my career.”

I shut my eyes. If I was expecting forgiveness, I’m not sure I’m getting it.

All I think of is if this were my last chance to speak with her, what would I want her to know? We sit at a park bench, the laughs of kids at the nearby playground over my shoulder, but it drifts away when I gaze deeply in her eyes.

“I made a mistake, Sadie. And I know asking for your forgiveness might not be enough, but I’m done keeping secrets from you. I’m done hiding how I feel about you. I’m done not telling you the truth.”

“Which is?” she asks.

“That the moment you crashed into my life again, I felt like I was finally living. That for the first time in years, I was more than just a musical prodigy. That shiny solos on stage won’t ever match to having the perfect partner beside me to share it with.

“You challenged me to see past what I always knew and when music turned from love into pain, when it stopped feeling like my home, you came along and showed me how to love it again. Because I found music in you —your laugh, your voice, your violin— you are what I want to wake up to in the morning and fall asleep to each night. You’re my lullaby and birdsong, you’re my lark. You lift me up and fill my lackluster home just by simply being you. I don’t care how feisty or sassy you get with me. I know the worst decision I ever made was leaving you six years ago.”

Sadie’s eyes glisten, and when a tear drops, I catch it with a finger.

“Why did you leave that night?” she asks. My hand drops.

“Because I realized something that scared me. Something I didn’t understand what to do with then. ”

“What was it?” Her voice cracks with emotion.

“That I was falling in love with you.”

She sniffs and my heart aches. I hate to be the one to make her cry.

“Was I too much for you?” she whispers, her gaze falling to her hands in her lap. I reach gently, lacing my fingers with hers.

“No. Never. I… I felt too much and too scared. You were all I thought of day and night. You were my motivation, my drive. But I grew up believing that I had to choose between a future with you or a future in music.”

The truth cuts through me harshly. The realization of why I chose what gave me purpose but made Sadie lose hers.

“It wasn’t fair or right what I did. It was selfish and immature saying wrongful things and not sticking up for you in all those years when you did nothing wrong. I was brought up to believe that love and relationships couldn’t make it through successful careers. My parents had me so young they kept telling me to put my career first and family later, thinking I’d waste my talent if I got married too young like them. I thought if I got what I wanted, a successful music career, then… my life would be complete. But it wasn’t. It isn’t.

“Touring with you, I realized I felt so lonely in all my wins and successes because I had no one to share it with. Now, I don’t care to win. I just want to have someone by me and I want that someone to be you. I never wanted you to be behind my shadow. I want you to shine with me.”

Her eyes are filled with fresh tears and I lift her chin up to see me. I don’t mean to be harsh, I only mean to tell the truth as I wipe her tears away.

“But even with all this said, Sadie. Even with you knowing that I’m in love with you. I don’t know how you feel about me.” My voice trembles and her eyes panic for a moment. It looks as if she might flee again. “Please tell me, my lark, just tell me. I want to know.”

My forehead rests against hers and all I can pray for in this moment is that she loves me too.