Whenever I questioned his relationship with Miranda, Ryan would explode in anger, insisting that he only saw Miranda as a sister. He would tell me not to overthink things.
Before, I had forgiven him time and time again, driven by both my love for him and my gratitude to him for saving my life.
But now, staring at my bloodied hands, broken and unrecognizable, I cried and laughed, my emotions in turmoil.
When I was six, my father had an affair and abandoned me and my mother. The betrayal devastated my mother, and she cut herself because she couldn’t bear the pain of his departure.
Her depression, coupled with the scars on her hands, led her to abandon her dream of playing the piano.
But one day, after hearing me play, my mother’s eyes lit up. She found renewed hope.
She started working tirelessly, teaching me piano and hiring the best tutors, sending me to various competitions.
She even worked as a delivery driver and washed dishes, all to support me and give me the chance to succeed.
My mother, who had sacrificed so much for me, was diagnosed with cancer while I was in college and passed away far too soon.
On her deathbed, she held my hand and shared her final wish with me.
She wanted me to continue studying music, join an orchestra, and become Johannes’s student.
But now, because I had fallen for Ryan, I missed my chance—my hands were destroyed, and I would never be able to play the piano again.
I used to not understand why my mother had been so consumed with grief after my father left, to the point of self-harm.
Now, I wondered—was this the price of loving someone?
If so, then I would never dare to love again.
