She'd said she loved him. She didn't know if she meant it, but she'd said it and she couldn't take it back. Yes, he meant something to her, but did she love him? Maybe it was just his music she loved. Maybe it was the beautiful sounds: the chords, the words, the notes… Maybe it was the creations that kept drawing them closer and closer, like two stars bound to collide, pulled through space by some field of gravity they couldn't escape. And maybe, just like two stars set on an inevitable crash course for one another, that collision would cause nothing but chaos and destruction.
Or, maybe… Maybe she didn't want to be in love. After all, hadn't she learned her lesson? She'd been in love before. Had a child. Gotten married. And what had she gotten out of it? What good had come? Well, arguably her daughter was a good thing. She loved Ivanka dearly. But other than that? Nothing. All she'd gotten out of it was pain. She'd watched the man she'd fallen so hard for change, drift away from her… Sail away… Every night… Further and further until he was nothing more than a lonely figure on a distant shore. She'd felt isolated and hurt. She'd cried enough rivers to create an additional sea, to drown an entire continent. She didn't want to feel that again.
Something was making her fall. Something was dragging her down, not slow and steady like in the song, but slowly and then suddenly all at once with a stomach churning speed. Maybe it was love. Maybe it was his accent and the way he looked at her. Maybe it was the puppy dog eyes. The way she felt when she looked up at his face, when she sat at the piano and could feel him watching her, when he sat down on the bench beside her, close enough to touch… Or, maybe it was the music. The common thing they had. The method that they both used to cope with their individual pain and losses. Maybe it was that they used the same thing to tell their stories. Maybe it was that she felt at home in the notes and the chords and the keys and the sounds and maybe it was that he felt at home there too and maybe that was the true force holding them together.
Whatever it was, she'd said he loved him. Of course, she'd said it in Czech… So, of course, he hadn't understood her. He was just kind of staring, asking for clarification. Well, here was her chance to decide. Did she say it? Really say it? Those three little words, 'I love you'… Did she say them in a language he would understand? Or did she leave things the way they were? Should she choose not to disturb the balance of the universe, knowing that the ledge they teetered on was precarious and unstable? Should she leave the unknown unknown, focus on finishing the demos, and let him leave to follow the girl who so clearly still held his heart? Were the words even worth saying when she knew that neither of them could possibly know if they were true?
"Looks like rain," She finally replied, casting her eyes up to the unfortunately clear sky.