The calming, familiar scent of flowers surrounds me, the vibrant pops of color filling up every ounce of space. I don't know why I came to the flower shop, I don't know why this is the place I took us, but I know every time I've needed to escape, this is always where I land.

That moment in my room, Cam's arms holding me close, my heart reaching for his, it's got a lot of stuff spinning inside my head. There's a flurry of fog that's whipping around my chest and making everything feel funny inside me. I wanted to kiss him. Like, really kiss him.

It's a feeling I've been avoiding. But being with him tonight, feeling that indescribable pull, it had me shaking. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with the possibility of developing feelings for Cam. I don't know where that goes. But I do know where I go when I need to sort through things.

"You drive to the cliffs when it feels like the ground beneath you is giving way," I say quietly as I pass by the piano. I let my fingers trail the keys, running them gently along the surface before I turn to face him. "This is where I run to. When the quiet gets too loud, when I can't seem to stand on solid ground or when I miss her so damn much that I can't breathe, this is where I land." I fall to the bench, tucking my legs into place and letting my hands rest along the very keys my mom used to play. The ones she brought so much joy to the world with. The very ones I haven't been able to bring to life since she passed.

I feel Cam slide in beside me, his quiet warmth wrapping its arms around me.

"She used to play every day," I continue. "She wasn't a musician by any means, but she sure loved to bring this place to life. She said the flowers grew better with music." I pause, letting a smile fall across my face, the one laced in so much empty pain. "She said it was the answer to every frown. I remember, every year for my birthday, we'd get dressed up for the symphony. She used to say it was our special night. Just me and her. She'd do my hair all pretty and even let me wear makeup. We spent all day getting ready together. She made me feel like a princess." My fingers still rest along the cold keys, a mile away yet so desperately close. "We'd sit through the symphony, the elegant sound swallowing everything. It was this magical moment where it all just disappeared and I felt like it was just me and her. Nothing else mattered."

My thoughts drift off, the sparkly memories clouded over in the dark shadow that continues to grow. It's the one reminding me that's all those moments will ever be...memories. Memories lost in a void and scraping to stay forever. Cam's shoulder grazes mine, his silent strength filling my chest as I breathe through all the heavy. I haven't opened this side of me, I haven't let anyone in to see the dark. But something about Camden, something in the way his gaze always sees through the delicate veil, the way his silence feels like a symphony all of his own, makes me want to open every floodgate and reach for the lifevest he's holding out for me.

"She had gone through one round of chemo the last time we went..." I breathe out. "She was beautiful. Looking back, I can see how tired she was. But she was determined to give us both that moment...one last time."

Cam's hand is in mine, holding me in place as I sort through the heavy pull of emotions. My free hand traces the keys in front of me, feeling the echoing ache left behind. "She left this to me," I continue. "She told me to play through the loss, that it would keep her with me. As if the simple sound of the keys would ever be enough to replace her."

His hand clings tighter to mine, holding on as I let the tears cover my eyes. I don't let them fall, though. Instead, I swallow them down and remove my hand from the piano.

"I have my dad's watch," he says, dropping his voice and bringing my eyes to his. He's quiet, the sentiment lingering in the small space between us. The air thick and heavy, weighted in unspoken grief. "They gave it to me. After..." he trails off. "I haven't been able to put it on. He should be wearing it. Not me."

My free hand finds his, reaching to comfort those broken pieces that will never heal. They're mended, held together with the tight stretch of a bandaid, but not healed. Never healed.

His hand turns in mine, his fingers sliding between my own and gripping tightly before the soft hazel glow of his eyes find mine. The pain is screaming behind them, a silent sob of so much fucking hurt.

"They should be here, Kenze. Your mom should be playing this piano. My dad should still have that watch latched around his wrist, always keeping him so damn punctual. But for whatever reason I'll never understand, they aren't. And sometimes I wonder if that is enough of a reason to walk away from the things that remind us of them, or maybe...maybe it's more of a reason to hold those things even tighter."

The way his eyes hold a light of sincerity caresses my heart, the soft gentle pull of a string slowly unraveling. "It really hurts without her."

"Yeah," he exhales the word on a wave of understanding as he drops his head. The quiet falls between us, the ache dancing along the tormented strings that tie us together. As his fingers move along my hand, his eyes pull back to mine. "Remember when we first met?" he asks. And the memory of that boy, broken on a bench, comes flashing in front of me. I nod slowly as he continues. "I asked you if it got easier?"

"And I told you that it gets easier to breathe, to function. But that it doesn't get easier to feel the pain."

He nods, the heat of his hand warming my chest. "It feels a little easier right now. Being here. Feeling it with you."

The soft touch of his fingers slide along my temple, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. The warmth of his palm stays resting along my cheek as he holds me with him. He leans in, the same spark from earlier flying between us as his forehead rests along my own. I can feel the heat of his breath tickling my lips, the urge to close all space between us vibrates my chest.

"Will you play something for me, Kenze?" he whispers, and my heart squeezes within my chest. I pull back, taking a heavy breath as I hold the strength within his eyes. The reflection of his shattered heart sparkles behind them.

I know the pieces that carve into my chest every time I try to play. But I also know the gift of sound the keys provide. It's just like my mother always used to say, let the music bring you joy.

"I'm sorry," he jumps back in. "You don't have to. I just–"

"Yes," I cut him off. He doesn't say anything when I let my hands fall along the keys. Their smooth familiarity claws away at a distant memory, at all the harbored ache and trembling fear. That thing in my chest beats on overdrive as I take two long breaths.

I press down on one key, letting the lingering sound fall into the quiet as I close my eyes. The sound echoes across my ribcage, an unexpected warmth fluttering across my racing pulse like the delicate wings of a butterfly. Taking two more breaths, I begin to play, to truly play. Each and every note blends beautifully into the next as the light falls all around me.

When I hit the final key, I can feel the warm tears stain my cheeks. Their presence is foreign as the cool air around me turns them cold along my skin. I reach to wipe them away, to hide all traces of evidence. "I'm sorry," I quickly apologize.

Cam's hand is in mine, pulling it away as a few more tears slide free. I duck my head away, aching to hide the crumbling pieces, but his fingers fall along my chin, turning my face to his. He watches me, his eyes trailing the path my tears take down my cheek. When he looks back at me, the vibrant green of his eyes locked with mine, it feels a bit like everything will be okay.

His thumb slides along a falling tear as he holds it within his grasp. "You're beautiful, Mackenzie. Don't apologize for that."

"No one is beautiful when they cry."

"You're not no one."

The steady breaths within my lungs hold still, frozen within my throat as his eyes hold mine. There's been so much between us, so many things unsaid, so many moments lost and buried over the years. But being here with him, feeling everything alongside him...it's like he said, it's easier when he's beside me.

I think it's always been easier beside him.

"Cam..."

"Will you keep playing?" he asks, cutting off the words I think we're both terrified to face. "Please, Kenze."

I nod, dropping my gaze and letting my hands slide back along the keys. I continue to play, to let the world fade away around us one precious note at a time.