Chapter 144: Small Window of You

The program flowed smoothly. 

Performers knew their cues and played their pieces beautifully. Pride surged in the hearts of their close family and friends. The professionalism they displayed exceeded their expectations. Gone were their rowdy behavior—and was replaced by sophisticated demeanor.

Guardians could hardly believe it.

They almost wished the children stayed that way even when the recital was over.

"This far better than I was expecting," Avery commented as she clapped. A little girl who wore a lavender dress walked off the stage. "If you'll be thinking about it, please do know that I approve of this school if my future grandchildren want to explore their musical interests."

Ambryan frowned. His own clapping ceased as they waited for the next performer. "I believe you'd rather learn it yourself. Why don't you sign up for classes?"

His mother wasn't amused. "Mila prefers to teach children and I can understand where she is coming from with that. Most children still have a lot of room to learn before they could think for themselves if the rules apply to them. "

Music had a complicated journey. First, learners discover and choose their choice of mediums. Then, they perfect their skills with the notes, the timing, the pitch, the tempo… Once that was over, a musician could create their own music sheets. |

They become free to paint whatever on the canvas.

"What about those who think like young people then?" Ambryan countered. Another little girl appeared on stage. A staff worker aided her in bringing in a cello. "Since you know her, I'm sure she'll make an exception for you."

The pointed tip of a heeled-shoe hit the side of his leg.

"I sometimes wonder if you still see me as your mother," Avery complained. She flipped her hair back and focused on the stage. The little girl insisted on holding the cello by herself. "Or if you just see me as a mad woman."

"Now, what makes you say that, mother?"

"Why you—!"

"Ssh, loud voices are not allowed, mother. Or did you forget?"

Avery bit down on her bottom lip hard. Her violet eyes glazed with simmering flames. He had deliberately provoked her to make his point. Being fooled was one thing… but knowing you had been fooled was another.

The latter made her sick in the stomach.

Ambryan showed her a closed-lip smile.

…

…

…

'Why does my son have to be so handsome and adorable?' Avery asked herself, lamenting on how Ambryan inherited her genes. The little girl on stage played her first note. Avery sighed and dropped the subject. 

Still, she couldn't help but—"You are very lucky that I love you."

Ambryan chuckled at her statement. His gaze stayed on the performance. The music score focused on lower notes compared to the others. The strokes were long and powerful. He appreciated the change of pace. 

If his mother had said anything else, he didn't hear it.

The little girl's forehead creased in concentration. The staff worker stayed by her side—just in case, the cello fell. Her fingers on the board shook as she executed a vibrato. The volume of her music rose up as she prolonged the process.

In that moment, she captured Ambryan's full attention. 

.

.

.

.

.

"Okay, who are you staring at?"

Mila averted her jade green eyes. She took a step back and hit something. The mic fell off her hand and hit the lectern. Her co-worker snatched it just before it could roll over to the floor. She hit her head when she bent down to catch the mic.

It wasn't one of her ideal moments.

Amy tossed the mic with one hand, catching and repeating the motion. Blush-colored bangs framed her oval face. Her ocean eyes sparkled like the surface of fresh spring. "Now, that definitely got me curious."

"It's no one," Mila tried to dismiss. Since she had the task as the emcee, she couldn't leave her post. That meant Amy had her trapped right where she wanted her. The former placed the microphone on the lectern and leaned forward.

"Oh, really?"

She narrowed her gaze. 

"You had been looking out that window during every performance," Amy pointed out. Straightening her spine, she crossed her arms over her chest. A smirk tugged the corner of her lips. "And I conclude that someone in the crowd interests you."

Mila coughed, staying quiet. She had been on the spot several times in her lifetime. There was no way to win if the other party insisted on their beliefs—which happened often. Because of it, she became selective on when to say something.

Amy laced her hands over Mila's elbow crease. She tugged the composer closer. Her pink ringlets bounced on her shoulders. "Now, tell me all the details! I am dying for you to meet someone who'd sweep you off your feet."

Mila attempted to pull her arm back.

"There's no one."

"Lies."

"Even if there was…" She sighed, pausing for a moment. Her hand wrapped around her co-worker's. She used this opportunity to peek out the small window. Like Amy said, she had done it many times.

She found Ambryan instantly.

"Uh-huh," Amy urged. The hairs on her skin tingled with excitement.

"Even if there was…" Mila repeated. She shoved Amy's hands away and widened the distance between them. Their eyes met briefly. "He's already taken."

And she should have moved on 2 months ago.

At least, she thought she had. This recital proved it to be the opposite. She hadn't forgotten her feelings, only placed them at bay. They emerged once more when she caught sight of him. The butterflies in her stomach had soared up and circled around her heart.

Oh, how dangerous infatuation could be.

Amy clicked her tongue, biting her inner cheek.

"Married?"

Mila shook her head. "Girlfriend."

At that, Amy lit up and snapped her fingers. "Not married means you still have a chance."

Mila chuckled at her statement. She had that same hope before. Now, she couldn't believe it as much as she used to. Her voice came out almost as quiet as a whisper. "I thought I did, but I didn't."

She dropped her eyes to the floor. It was the first time she spoke about her feelings over not being chosen. Ambryan didn't even give her a chance. He had picked someone the day after they met. 

After seeing their relationship progress, she could almost believe that Ambryan did fall for another girl that day.

"Oh, no." Amy breathed out. She shook her head repeatedly. Utter horror projected out of her gaze. "No, not this."

"Not what?" Mila scowled.

"You finally like someone but it's unrequited?" Amy looked up at the ceiling and pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. Her face scrunched into an anguished look. It was as if she felt pain that couldn't be seen by others. 

Then, she said, "Do you want to torture me?"

Mila waved her hand, brushing off the dramatic act. Her attention shifted back on stage. The little girl pressed on despite sweating from the warm stage lights. Mila prepared a handkerchief to help the girl out once the performance ended.

A warm smile bloomed on her lips. "The only requited love I need is music."

Amy lifted her hand off her forehead. She clenched it into a fist and stabbed an invisible dagger straight to her chest. "Right in the feels."

Mila playfully rolled her eyes. 

Music had been with her since she was young. And it would continue to do so in her future. As much as she'd want to experience a romantic relationship with a fellow human, she doubted that she could give up parts of music to keep the person by her side.

She had just said that but, maybe...

Slowly, her neck twisted to the left.

The stage lights reached the first few rows. Faces in the crowd illuminated before her eyes. She could see their pleased expressions. Avery's hairstyle easily stood out even at this angle. And right beside her was…

Ambryan had placed his elbow on the armrest and pressed his index finger against his lips. It hid the bottom half of his face but his handsomeness shone through. His gaze conveyed intense concentration.

The cello finished on a strong note.

His violet eyes crinkled at the corners. 

And only Mila had seen it.

Amy opened her mouth but closed it again. She clearly had overstayed her welcome. Taking a step towards backstage, her foot hovered in mid-air. She twisted her upper body towards Mila's spot.

'Only VIPs and staff can be clearly seen through that window,' she remembered. Her right foot settled on the floorboard while her mind continued to analyze the situation, 'He's definitely not staff. Mila had never reacted differently to anyone. Then, he must be a VIP…'

A round of applause echoed around the room.

That was Amy's cue to make her escape.

Once she was safe, she held onto her knees and panted. Beads of sweat trickled down the sides of her face. She wiped her damp forehead with the back of her arm. 

"If he's here then, I have to do something," she muttered under her breath, thinking of a plan. "I can't just stand here and do nothing. There's still the after-party. No matter what I can't let Mila just stand by. That woman needs to grow a pair."