Chapter 61 - The Symphony of Home
Music became a constant, soothing presence in our later years.
I had taken up playing the grand piano in the parlor, a hobby I had abandoned decades ago during the chaotic years of our corporate wars.
One rainy afternoon, I was playing a slow, sweeping Chopin sonata. The house was quiet, the sound of the keys blending beautifully with the steady rhythm of the rain against the glass.
Alexander walked into the room, leaning against the doorframe, simply watching me.
He didn't interrupt. He didn't speak. He just stood there, his eyes filled with a love so deep it felt almost physical.
When I finished the final, lingering chord, the silence stretched comfortably between us.
"You never lost your touch,"
Alexander said softly, walking over to the piano bench.
"My hands are a little slower than they used to be,"
I smiled, looking down at my fingers.
May you like
"They are exactly as beautiful as the day I met you,"
Alexander replied, taking my hands in his and kissing my knuckles with absolute reverence.
