Zane is leaning against the doorway that leads from the hallway. His one shoulder resting casually against the fra, arms crossed over his chest
He’s watching , while clapping my heart skips once I didn’t even hear him co in.
"How long have you been standing there?" I ask.
His clapping slows before stopping completely.
"Long enough."
His voice is quieter than usual, there’s sothing thoughtful in his eyes.
"You play beautifully."
The complint catches off guard. I turn slightly back toward the piano keys, suddenly very aware of mysel
"Thank you."
He pushes himself away from the doorway and walks a few steps closer, his gaze moving over the piano.
"You never ntioned you played."
"You never asked."
He huffs a quiet laugh at tha as his eyes return to my hands resting on the keys.
"You should play more often."
I glance at him.
"Is that an order?"
His mouth curves slightly.
"No little spitfire."
He tilts his head toward the piano.
"Just a suggestion."
I turn back toward the piano keys slowly, my fingers are still resting on them.
Zane is a few steps away now, standing near the edge of the rug, watching with that sa unreadable expression he always seems to wear when he’s trying not to show what he’s thinking.
I glance at the piano again..... then back at him.
"Did you buy this?"
My voice cos out softer than I intended.
He doesn’t hesitate.
"Yes."
I study his face for a second.
"Why?"
For a mont he doesn’t answer, he just walks closer to the piano, his hand brushing lightly across the smooth surface of it as if he’s inspecting the instrunt himself.
Then he shrugs slightly.
"You used to play."
The words catch off guard.
Used to.
I tilt my head a little.
"And how do you know that?."
He rests his hand on the edge of the piano now, his fingers tapping the polished wood once.
"When you married ... you stopped." Ignoring my question.
Still what he just said makes sothing in my chest shift. I didn’t realize he had noticed that.
Not really
"You thought I’d get bored?" I ask lightly.
"No."
He shakes his head once.
"I thought you stopped because there wasn’t one here."
I blink at him.
"So you bought one?."
"Yes."
The answer cos out like it’s obvious, like l there’s nothing complicated about it. Like buying a grand piano and placing it in the middle of the house is the most normal thing in the world.
For a few seconds I just look at him, trying to read the space between his words. Because this is the sa man who, just hours ago, said things designed to cut straight through ... the sa man who stood in his office smirking while I slapped him after saying hurtful things to and now he’s standing here quietly beside a piano he bought so I could play again.
He is so hot and cold, back and forth. It makes my head spin sotis.
I shake my thoughts away and push the piano bench back slightly before standing.
"Thank you."
The words co out sincerely, because despite everything...the gesture is thoughtful.
Zane watches carefully when I say it, like he’s trying to determine if I actually an it.
Then his shoulders relax just slightly.
"You’re welco."
The silence between us lingers for a mont. The patio lights outside cast faint reflections across the piano’s black surface, and the house around us is still quiet.
I fold my arms loosely.
"You’re confusing, you know that?"
One of his eyebrows lifts.
"Am I?"
"Yes."
I gesture between us.
"One minute you’re... this."
I motion toward the piano.
"Thoughtful."
Then I tilt my head.
"And the next minute you’re saying things that makes want to to throw sothing at your head."
Zane huffs quietly through his nose.
"That’s because you’re stubborn."
"I’m stubborn because you’re an ass."
He almost smiles.
Almost. But it disappears before it fully forms.
His eyes drift back to the piano again.
"You really are good."
I shrug lightly.
"I practiced a lot growing up."
"Like I said earlier you should play more."
"I might."
Then I glance at him again.
"But if you’re trying to apologize, you should probably find a better way to do it."
The mont the words leave my mouth, Zane’s head snaps toward and his expression freezes.
"...What?"
I lean my hip lightly against the piano.
"You heard ."
"I’m not apologizing."
The denial cos too fast and defensiv, which makes it even more obvious.
I fold my arms.
"You bought a piano after we had a massive argunt this afternoon."
"That doesn’t an I’m apologizing."
"No?"
"No."
His jaw tightens slightly.
"It’s just a piano."
"Sure."
"I noticed you stopped playing."
"Mhm."
"And I fixed the problem."
"That’s very noble of you."
"I’m serious."
"I know you are."
He studies my face carefully now, clearly trying to figure out if I’m mocking him.
"You’re overthinking this."
"Am I?"
"Yes."
I tilt my head.
"So the timing is just coincidence?"
"Yes."
"And it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you said sothing cruel earlier today."
His mouth opens slightly, then closes. The pause lasts just long enough to betray him.
I raise my eyebrows slowly.
"Ah."
Zane exhales sharply through his nose.
"You’re impossible."
"And you’re bad at pretending."
"I’m not pretending."
"You absolutely are."
He runs a hand through his hair in visible frustration.
"I just bought you a piano."
"Yes."
"That’s it."
"And?"
"And nothing."
I smile faintly.
"You’re a terrible liar."
"I’m not lying."
"You are."
Zane looks like he’s about two seconds away from arguing with the furniture.
Which, I have to admit, is oddly satisfying.
"You think everything has so deeper aning," he mutters.
"Usually it does."
"Not this ti."
"Mhm."
"Elaine."
"Yes?"
"I’m not apologizing."
I push off the piano and step closer to him, just enough that he has to tilt his head slightly downward to look at .
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