The next morning, Elara woke up before the sun. She didn't feel the usual crushing exhaustion that had plagued her for months. Instead, there was a quiet, steady thrum of energy in her veins. She made a pot of tea and sat on the front porch, watching the mist slowly roll back from the surrounding fields.
Around ten o'clock, the crunch of gravel on the dirt lane broke the morning stillness.
Elara stood up, wrapping her cardigan tighter. She expected to see Lily's bright red raincoat or Sarah's hurried walk. Instead, a rusted blue pickup truck pulled up to the edge of the property.
The door creaked open, and Julian stepped out. He was dressed in a simple gray t-shirt and jeans, lacking his green bakery apron. He looked toward the porch, offering a small, slightly hesitant wave.
Elara's breath caught. She offered a stiff wave back, suddenly overly aware of her messy hair and oversized clothes.
Julian walked up the porch steps, holding two cardboard to-go cups in a carrier. "Hi," he said, his hazel eyes crinkling. "I hope you don't mind. Elias—my grandfather—told me where the cottage was. I realized after you left yesterday that you never actually got to drink your coffee. You were a little busy starting a musical revolution in my cafe."
Elara felt a flush of heat rise to her cheeks. She smiled, stepping aside and gesturing for him to come in.
I come bearing gifts," Julian said as he stepped through the front door, handing her one of the cups. "A proper hazelnut latte this time. No broken spinet pianos attached."
Elara took the cup, inhaling the rich, sweet scent. She pointed to a mismatched armchair in the living room, offering him a seat.
Julian, however, didn't sit immediately. His eyes were drawn to the corner of the room, fixing on the polished upright piano and the sheet music resting proudly on the desk.
"So," he murmured, walking slowly toward the instrument. "This is where the magic happens."