"Now I'm living," I said simply. The truth of it settled in my chest like a physical weight—not heavy, but grounding. "For the first time, I think I'm actually living."
His eyes softened at my words, and he seemed about to say something more when a tap on the window startled us both. A petite woman with wild silver-streaked curls and bright blue eyes stood outside, grinning widely at us.
"You must be Lilianna!" she called through the glass, her voice carrying even through the closed window. "I've been waiting for you!"
Nicolaus chuckled, straightening in his seat as he turned off the engine. "That would be Elena," he said, his voice carrying fond amusement. "She's... enthusiastic."
I smoothed my hair and checked my reflection in the mirror, suddenly nervous. "She seems very energetic."
"She is. But she's also incredibly gifted. She's helped dozens of people reconnect with music after difficult experiences." He squeezed my hand reassuringly. "Trust me, you'll love her."
We climbed out of the car, and Elena immediately swept forward, her flowing bohemian dress and multiple bangles creating a symphony of gentle sounds as she moved. She was probably in her early thirties, but her energy was infectious, radiating warmth and creativity. She moved forward taking my hands in hers without hesitation.
Elena’s grip was warm and surprisingly grounding as she held my hands, her bracelets chiming softly with every movement.
“You’re even more beautiful than Nicolaus described,” she said brightly, giving my fingers a gentle squeeze before she leaned in with a conspiratorial wink. “Though, between us, I suspect he was underselling you.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the easy warmth in her voice. Her energy was… magnetic, like sunlight made human. Beside us, Nicolaus was carefully lifting the violin case from the backseat of the car. His expression was calm, but there was a softness around his eyes I’d come to recognize—pride, maybe. Or something deeper.
I tucked my hair behind my ear, trying to find words. “I’ve actually… never played before,” I admitted, a flutter of nerves tightening in my chest. “I’ve wanted to, but… it just wasn’t something I was ever allowed to do.”
Elena tilted her head, curiosity blooming in her expression. “Not allowed?”
I nodded slowly. “My mother didn’t see the point. She said playing instruments was a waste of time for someone like me. That I needed to focus on… more important things.”
Her expression shifted, the warmth still there but edged now with understanding. “Let me guess,” she said gently. “Learning how to be the perfect Omega?”
A sharp breath escaped me. “Exactly. Studying etiquette. Family lineage. Healing techniques. Womb care,” I said with a slight bitterness, my voice quieting. “She thought the violin was too selfish. That it served no one but myself.”
Elena was quiet for a moment. Then she gently released my hands and opened the shop door with a flourish. “Then let’s be selfish today.” That simple statement cracked something open inside me.
Nicolaus stepped beside me, offering the violin case with both hands. “Go on,” he said. “I’ll be right out here if you need me.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” I asked, still holding his gaze.
He leaned in slightly, his voice low. “This is foryou. I wanted you to walk through this door and know that you’re allowed to take up space in the world. This is a beginning, Lilianna—not just a lesson.”
I nodded, my throat thick, and took the case from him. Then I followed Elena inside. The inside ofHarmonywas nothing likeI expected. It was warm, rich with the scent of aged wood, pine resin, and old paper. Soft golden light streamed through lace-curtained windows, falling across rows of instruments displayed with care. Every violin, cello, and viola rested in carved wood cradles like sleeping children, their lacquered bodies gleaming beneath the sunlight.
It didn’t feel like a store.
It felt like a sanctuary.
The floor was dark hardwood, covered in layered rugs that softened each step. Crystalline chimes hung from the archways, catching the breeze and producing a soft, musical murmur. Stacks of sheet music sat beside record players and worn leather chairs. Everything in the space felt touched by time and intention.
“I don’t take many students anymore,” Elena said as she led me down a side hallway. “But when Nicolaus told me about you, I knew I’d say yes. You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice. She opened a door into a sunlit room tucked at the back of the shop. The walls were painted a warm cream, the window framed with ivy trailing from a hanging pot. In the center sat two armchairs, a music stand, and a stool carved with flowers. A single violin hung on the wall behind the stand. Below it, a handwritten sign in curling ink read:“Your first breath matters more than your first note.”
It made my chest ache.
“I want you to start by holding her,” Elena said gently. “Feel her weight. Her shape. Let her know you’re listening.” I nodded and opened the violin case carefully. Inside, the violin lay cradled in plush velvet, the warm reddish-brown of its varnish glowing like amber in the afternoon sun. I reached out with trembling fingers, running my fingertips along the graceful curve of the body, the fine lines of the f-holes, the delicate bridge.
It was beautiful.
“I never thought I’d actually get to do this,” I whispered, barely breathing. “I used to dream about it when I was little. I’d imagine sneaking one out of a concert hall after everyone left. Just to try. Just once.”
Elena smiled. “And here she is. Waiting for you like she always was.” She guided me through the basics with the patience of someone who had taught grief and rebirth just as often as notes and rhythms. We didn’t jump into music right away—she had me hold the violin first, feeling the curve of it beneath my jaw, the way the shoulder rest nestled into the hollow of my collarbone. My muscles tensed awkwardly, unsure, but she gently adjusted me until I felt… balanced.
