“I want to listen to you play music every day, Peaches. And whether you want to play for just us, maybe teach our girl to play when she’s old enough, or if you want to write music or sell out stadiums, I’ll be here beside you, in awe.” I cup her cheek, brushing my thumb across her smooth, freckled skin. “Your dreams are my dreams. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to discover what those dreams are. I guess I just thought if the piano was here—I don’t know—maybe you’d come back to me one day.”
