Breathing cut short at the other end of a phone.They hadn’t disappeared.But they no longer decided which note I played next.I relaxed my wrist and continued.When the piece ended, I looked up.Declan sat in the third row.He stood to applaud.Luca was faster, lifting his flowers almost over his head.Martha stood in the wings, her eyes red, smiling.I smiled back.Afterward, a reporter asked about the Morettis.A staff member moved to stop the question.I indicated it was all right.The reporter chose her words carefully.“After everything you’ve experienced, do you still believe in love?”I thought about it.“Yes.”A camera flashed.“Because of your marriage?”I looked across the room.Declan was bending to hear something Luca was saying.He wasn’t trying to place himself in the photograph.“Because I finally understand that loving someone doesn’t require giving up myself.”The reporter asked whether I had forgiven the past.I didn’t give her a neat ending.“I’m here to talk about
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