The Symphony of Us by Claudia Burgoa

Author:Claudia Burgoa [Burgoa, Claudia]
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter Seventeen

Sanford

A lazy smile tugs at the corner of Aerin’s mouth as she pokes at the bowl of berries with a fork. “Tell me something new,” she prompts.

The familiarity tugs at my lips. It was our thing. Whenever I would visit New York or she would come to Seattle, we would make love and then she’d ask me for one new thing I’ve done while we were apart. Each time, I wanted to share the details of my missions with her, but I always held back. I wanted to shield her from the dangers of my job, knowing it would only cause her worry.

If we find our way back to each other, perhaps I will start sharing what I can, so she’s aware of everything I do. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. No, it shouldn’t be an if, but a when. When we find our way back to us.

“There’s so much. What do you want to hear about?” I reply, uncertain of where to begin. It has been too many years apart, and countless things have happened.

She tilts her head thoughtfully, allowing strands of hair to slip over her shoulders. Then, she reaches out, tracing her finger over the lyrics and musical notes inked on my arm. “Why did you decide to own a tattoo parlor?”

I remove my arm from her touch and playfully attempt to snatch a plump blackberry from her bowl. She swats my hand away, a bright laugh escaping her. “Keep your hands away from my bowl, mister.”

I raise an eyebrow in mock offense. “But you can eat my food, huh?”

Her answering shrug is almost smug, a smirk gracing her lips as she teases. “Tough luck, big guy. Now, tell me why you became a tattoo artist.”

“It’s because of my insomnia,” I confess, clearing my throat before diving into the story. “I needed a hobby, something to keep me occupied during the sleepless nights. A friend who owns a tattoo parlor offered me an apprenticeship.”

I go on to explain how later, Manelik’s grandfather fell ill, and we all decided to pitch in at Luna Harbor for a couple of years. They own several businesses. Among them there was a tattoo parlor. It was during that time that each of us purchased a property. “About a year ago, when his grandparents decided to retire, I offered to buy the shop. It’s next to my cottage.”

Switching gears, my focus shifts to Aerin, a deep curiosity igniting within me. “What about you? Tell me something nobody knows about you.”

For a moment, she hesitates, then the words tumble out. “I miss dancing.”

Her admission seems to surprise even her, as if she never expected to speak those words aloud. “I never thought I’d say that out loud,” she murmurs, almost to herself.

Understanding washes over me. Dancing has always been an integral part of Aerin’s identity. The way she expressed herself. “It’s part of who you are,” I gesture to the window that overlooks the dance studio we built for her.

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