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Chapter 8
Lucas
A soft melody was flowing from the main hall of the house. The beautiful music filled my ears as I made the final touches of breakfast. Topping the dish with fresh chopped herbs, I washed my hands then headed to where the performance was coming from. Leaning my body on a large, ivory-colored post situated just across a white grand piano, I began to listen—and watch.
The piece was bittersweet, the notes hinting of love, happiness, sadness. Of remembrance. The soft sounds coming from the instrument were so poignant I could listen to them forever. It tugged at my chest, making me temporarily lose myself in its soft lilts and deep rhythms. But it eventually drifted to a close, the last note lingering in the air.
I observed as the player carefully lifted long, elegant fingers from the keys, and shifted my eyes up to slender, toned arms, refined shoulders and delicate neck. The morning light shone through the floor-to-ceiling window, sending an orange glint on a bed of reddish-brown hair, making them look golden. My gaze finally landed on stunning, green eyes framed with long, thick lashes, which were admiring me just the same.
"Hey," I said.
"Hey," she said back.
"It's a little too early for that, don't you think?"
She looked down at the piano keys then up to me again and gave me a heart-stopping smile. "You know it's my favorite."
Mine too. "Ready for breakfast?"
"What did you make this time?" she asked, angling her head to the side.
"Just bacon. And omelette. Come," Walking to her side, I twined my fingers with her soft ones.
"Sounds yummy. Another favorite," she whispered, standing up. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she pushed on her toes, and kissed me soundly. As she slowly pulled away I held onto her waist tightly and leaned to whisper in her ear, "Now that's my favorite."
I woke up.
Sitting up and placing a hand on my heart to feel its heavy beat, I recalled the way Chloe’s warm body felt against mine. It all seemed so real—the music, the smell of bacon and omelette, the morning sun…her. Not once since the day she died did I ever have a dream like this. All were nightmares—torturing me, reminding me of what I lost. Who I lost.
But this dream… This time it reminded me of the beauty of what I had, who I had, and this sheer, unique radiance that was so…us.
For a moment I wished that all of my previous dreams were like this. Just me and Chloe, and how happy we were together. But right then I also knew, that it would be pure agony to have the beautiful dreams as much as the bad ones, because every time my eyes would open only one truth was clear: she was never coming back. And pouring salt in an open wound was never a good idea.
But what triggered this on? Was it because of Cay and her similarity with Chloe? I had to admit that she never left my thoughts since meeting her in Lizzie’s room. That face, the chest-constricting smile, the sweet voice. If only I had not seen for myself Chloe’s coffin as it went deep in the ground three years ago, I could have sworn that it wasn’t Cay that I was looking at yesterday morning.
Burying my face back in the pillow, I let out a disgruntled groan. What a strange twist fate could do to man. Meeting two different people who looked exactly alike wasn't something you encountered everyday, let alone a whole lifetime. Yes, it wasn’t impossible, and the world had proof of that. But there was no way that Cay and Chloe could be related, with that I was sure.
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Romance"Cay, will you look at me?" I turned around and lifted my eyes to look into his. His arms were braced on the counter and he was looking at me sideways. The glow of the light coming from the living room and into the kitchen gave his face an otherwo...
