A knot forms in my stomach.
"A few weeks after I started, my tutor wanted me to enter a big contest.Mom refused.Said if I wanted to continue, I had to promise not to show anyone my talent until I was eighteen."
"Sam," I say, my palms sweating, "please, play something for me?"
"But..."
"It's okay.I know why your mom said that, and I'll explain everything later.Please."
She stands, walking to a piano in the corner.Alisha takes her place beside me, her hand finding my knee.Sam's fingers hover over the keys, her eyes meeting mine one last time.I give her an encouraging nod.
The first notes soar through the air, and I grab Alisha's hand.The melody starts sweet, like vanilla pudding, but then the richness deepens, becoming luxurious and warm.Memories of my father teaching me flood back as I watch my daughter's hands glide over the keys with professional grace.
Alisha's grip tightens as the store owner appears, watching from a distance.The emotion and depth Sam brings to the piece is astounding - it's an old, complex composition, and she plays it from memory.When the final note fades, I rise and go to her.She stares at her hands, still lost in the music.I sit beside her, pulling her into a tight embrace.
"Breathtaking," I whisper."I'm sorry you had to hide it."
Samantha furrows her brow."Why are you sorry?"
"Because I'm the reason you had to hide your talent, and it isn't fair."I shift on the bench, placing my fingers on the keys.The familiar feel of ivory beneath my fingertips sends a shiver through me as I play the first two lines of a piece burned into my memory.When I stop and look at her, Samantha's eyes are like swirling oceans.
"Y-You play?"
"You inherited more than just the Walker looks.The piano runs in our blood.You're the third generation of Walkers to play this instrument."
Her mouth drops open.
"Your grandfather and I both played.Like you, I started young.But..."I trail off, the old pain rising.Her eyes fill with tears, and I pull her close again."You never have to hide it anymore, Sam," I whisper, kissing her forehead.
She clutches my hand."I'm sorry for what I said in the kitchen.It wasn't fair."Her blue eyes meet mine."You are a good parent, Cole.But..."
"You miss your mom," I say, touching her cheek."I know I can never replace her.And I don't want to.But you need to know, I care for you."
"Let's go home," Alisha says softly, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"But what about the stalker?"Samantha asks, fear creeping back into her voice.
My eyes move between both women."I'm calling the police the moment we get home.This son of a bitch needs to be stopped."
While Samantha thanks the shop owner, I walk to Alisha, who takes both my hands in hers.
"You played," she whispers, awe in her voice.
My lips curve into a soft smile."Yeah.Maybe I'm finally making progress."
She rises on her toes to kiss me."I'm proud of you."
"I'm just glad you're both safe," I murmur against her warm mouth.
Her eyes sparkle like jade in sunlight, and the realization hits me like a thunderbolt - I love this woman.The thought startles me so much I have to focus on something else.
"The bastard sent me a message too."Her pupils dilate."What?"
I stroke my thumbs over her hands."In the parking garage.'She's mine.Stay away.'When I found the empty apartment, my mind went into overdrive."
"How did he get our numbers?"Her breathing becomes erratic, eyes darting sideways.
"Hey, breathe."I cup her face."You're safe.I won't let anything happen to you or Samantha."
