When the Music Ends (The Winter Rose Chronicles)

by Simone Beaudelaire

  "Of course not. She needs to let go of me and find someone who can give her everything she deserves."

  "And what exactly would that be?"

  "Well, for one thing, the recognition that she’s this amazing musician."

  "She can be an amazing musician back home too. In fact, think of the accolades someone of her caliber would get for playing there. She’s better now than she ever was before."

  "It’s too small a venue."

  "For whom? It’s what she wants. It’s all she’s ever wanted. You were her dream, Sean. She didn’t dream about being a great musician, because she already is one. People dream about what they don’t have. She dreamed of you, of being part of a loving family. She doesn’t care about fame, Sean. She only cares about having a home with people who love her, and getting to play her oboe. I suspect she would also like a baby. She can have all those things with you. Without you, even if she became the most famous oboe player in the world, and let’s face it Sean, how famous do oboe players really get? She would have no one. That instrument can’t love her back, and she won’t let anyone else get close. Think about it."

  Sheridan’s pointed words struck Sean like a sledgehammer. She was chipping away at the defenses he had erected to keep himself from scooping Erin out of her dorm room and carrying her off to the nearest priest and marrying her. And every blow unleashed a wave of pain he could scarcely stand. It really wasn’t surprising that he lost his temper.

  "That’s enough, Sheridan." His voice was harsh, loud. He was almost yelling. "Leave me alone about her. It’s over. Do you think it was easy for me to let her go? You of all people should understand about walking away from someone you love for their own good. It had to be done, and I hate it every day, okay. Just let it go."

  "What is going on here?" A very tall man with long black hair, a large beaky nose, and a ragged gray suit stalked out of a nearby office and approached them. He looked from Sheridan to her brother and back, and was clearly startled.

  "Sheridan?"

  "Dr. Burke." Sheridan looked stricken. Sean’s attack had undermined her composure, and her lip was quivering, her eyes filled with tears.

  The professor walked over to her and put his arm around her shoulders, leading her towards his office. "Come on, let’s go." He turned and gave Sean a very hard look, his black eyes glittering dangerously. Sean walked away.

  Back in his office, Dr. Michael Burke regarded Sheridan for a long moment. He was still standing very close.

  "Are you all right?"

  "Yes," her smile was watery but sincere. "I’m sorry if we disturbed you. I was having a little disagreement with my brother."

  "Your brother?" Dr. Burke looked surprised, almost relieved. "I thought he was your boyfriend."

  "No, I don’t have a boyfriend."

  "Hmmm. Well, I’m glad I found you. I wanted to ask you something. You’re just about finished with your Bachelor of Arts. Do you have any plans for the future? I hate to say it, but a B.A. in English isn’t exactly a career path in and of itself. What do you want to do with it, Sheridan?"

  "I don’t know really. I wish I could just stay here forever."

  "You could."

  "How?"

  "Get a Masters. Then you could teach here."

  "A Masters? Do you think I would be able?"

  "Of course. You’re only the smartest student we’ve ever had. I would suggest a PhD program, but we don’t have one. You would have to leave to pursue that." And something in his eyes made her dare to hope that he really didn’t want her to leave.

  "I don’t want to go. Can I teach at a university with a Masters?"

  "Yes, especially if you don’t mind teaching freshman classes, like you assisted with this last year."

  "That was fun. I actually love teaching freshman composition."

  "You may be the only person who does. Most professors see it as a chore."

  "Do you think I should do that?"

  "I think, Sheridan, that it would be a very good idea for you to consider it. In fact, I hoped you would. I have the application here if you want to fill it out, and, of course, I would write you a recommendation, not that you would need it. Are you interested?"

  "That depends. Would you keep on helping me, being my mentor?"

  "Of course."

  "Then, yes. I think that would be the perfect solution, except…how would I pay for it? The money my parents set aside for me to go to college is spent."

  "Well, I’ve been thinking about that. You assisted with that one class this semester, and you did a very good job too. If you were to get a teaching assistant position, you could work for your tuition, and there’s a small stipend too. And if you’re concerned about housing, well, when I was in grad school, I was a resident assistant. You would have to stay in the dorm, but it would be paid for and you would get a room to yourself."

  "You think of everything, Dr. Burke. Thank you. This is exactly what I want. I hope I can do it."

  "You will. You’re always successful, Sheridan."

  "Thank you."

  "By the way," his tone became casual, too casual, "if you’re teaching here, you’re going to be more and more my colleague rather than my student. I would like it very much if you would call me Michael."

  Sheridan’s eyes widened. Then a grin that put the late autumn sunshine to absolute shame broke over her face. He met her smile with a look of intense longing.

  "Michael." She tested the word as though it were a delicate confection. Impulsively, she hugged her professor. She wanted him so badly sometimes she feared she might burst with it. If only he knew, but alas, she had been rather free with her hugs, and for all he knew, it might only be a friendly gesture. She had to do more. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek. Then, embarrassed, she scooped up the applications from his desk and fled.

  ***Chapter 15***

  Sean stormed through the English department, furious that his sister had tricked him into driving three hours just so she could try and manipulate him. How dare she interfere?

  He was so intent on his angry thoughts that he almost crashed into a small figure running the other direction down the hallway. He stopped just in time to avoid a collision and looked down at the person he had nearly run over.

  It was Erin. She froze, her gaze running up the length of him to his face, recognition dawning on her beautiful features. Her soft pink lips parted slightly in surprise. God, she looked wonderful. She had put on some weight. Not a huge amount, maybe seven pounds, but oh, they were strategic. Her tiny bosom had filled out, as had her hips. She now had a womanly curve to her slender frame. She had cut her hair too. Instead of hanging long down her back, it ended just above her shoulders, with little swinging layers at the end and a sweep of long bangs that crossed her forehead diagonally to tuck behind her ear. The cut suited her, made her look more grown up. In fact, she looked all grown up, sexy, and even more heart-stoppingly beautiful than ever before.

  As he watched, her mouth soundlessly formed his name.

  Of all the people to run into, Sean Murphy had to be the worst. Erin was looking for her roommate. The door of their dorm room had locked unexpectedly again, trapping her in the hallway with the key inside. She needed to get Sheridan’s key before her friend got tangled up in one of those endless conversations with Dr. Burke. Instead, she had run directly into the one person she had never expected.

  She had tried so hard to put memories of Sean behind her. But she had failed. Never once had she forgotten how she loved this man. She had forgotten, however, just how gorgeous he was. He was a drug on her senses, so much so that she forgot to breathe for several seconds. Then the weight of their shared history crashed over her like a wave. This was her first love, her only love. She had given him her virginity. They had conceived, and lost and grieved a child together. He was the only person who had ever cared what happened to her. And then he had abandoned her without explanation. She had expected it, but that had not made it easier to take. And no
w he was here, in front of her, close enough to touch.

  Suddenly she no longer cared about looking pathetic. If he knew how she pined for him, so be it. She couldn’t bear to go another moment without touching him.

  Erin launched herself at Sean, throwing her arms around his neck, pulling him down so she could kiss him, not caring if the other students milling around them saw, wanting them to see, wanting everyone to see that she, Erin James, loved Sean Murphy with every fiber of her being.

  After a startled second, Sean wrapped his arms around Erin’s slender waist and began to kiss her back. He had almost forgotten how bold she could be when her desire was riding her. He had also forgotten how sweet Erin’s mouth was, clinging tenderly to his. Nothing had ever been sweeter, at least not anything that he knew about. And this was certainly not the kiss of a woman who had moved on. Sheridan had been right. They needed to talk.

  Gently, he disengaged his mouth from hers; still keeping his arms around her so she would know it was not a rejection. She tried to hang onto the kiss, sucking softly at his lips.

  "Easy, Erin," he said. How many times had he said this as he tried to slow her down, when she was clawing with passion? The familiar words broke through and she released him reluctantly.

  "Sorry," she said softly, "I just…can’t believe you’re here. Sean, I’ve missed you so much."

  "I’ve missed you too, baby," he told her, his voice gruff.

  She had told herself for years that their parting was inevitable, that she wouldn’t beg. But now he was here, and her strength of will dissolved in an instant, melted in the heat of that kiss. "Then why, Sean? Why did you stop calling me? I thought we were forever. That’s what you said." Her grief over his actions was clear in her voice and on her face, no less powerful for all the years in between. Sean winced. Had he really hurt her so badly as that?

  "Walk with me, Erin. Let’s talk, okay?"

  "Yes, let’s." She took his hand in hers; lacing their fingers together the way they used to do, they left the building.

  Outside, the autumn air was rather chilly, and Erin shivered. She remembered suddenly that their relationship had begun the same way, with a shiver. Sean released her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders instead. She snuggled into his warmth.

  There was a bench in the courtyard, in a patch of feeble sunlight, and they sat, ignoring the piles of cigarette butts on the ground around their feet.

  "Okay, Murphy, spill it. Just what the hell were you hoping to accomplish by making me fall madly in love with you and then dropping me like a rock? Was I just an easy lay after all?" She tried to sound playful, but it wasn’t really that convincing.

  "Of course not. Don’t cheapen what we had like that. I loved you and you know it." He sighed. "I’m sorry Erin. I know I hurt you. I didn’t want to, but I didn’t see another way. I didn’t want to get in the way of you pursuing your dreams."

  "Sean, you were my dream, you and our life together. The symphony, the music lessons, the family..."

  "It’s too small. You could achieve whatever you want."

  "Funny, isn’t it, how people say that when it’s so clearly not true. Did you ever stop to ask what I wanted? I never asked to be famous, to be in some high powered orchestra and deal with all the internal politics and backbiting. I just wanted to play my instrument, make music, be part of a group and make people happy. And I wanted to come home to you every night. I told you that, but you didn’t listen. You were so sure you knew me better than I knew myself. What I wanted was to get my degree and come home. I certainly didn’t achieve that."

  "You almost have your degree. A few more months will do it."

  "But now I have no home to go to."

  "Erin, if what you’re saying is true, why didn’t you insist I talk to you? You just let it go, didn’t ask any questions, didn’t protest. I thought you were done with me, glad I stopped meddling in your life."

  Erin shook her head. "I didn’t want to bother you. I guess I figured you were done with me, that you were sick of your silly adolescent girlfriend and wanted to move on, find someone else, someone not such a baby, not so…I don’t know…boring."

  "How could you think that? You’re not boring. You’re amazing. Didn’t I keep telling you that?"

  "You know what they say, Sean, about actions and words. No one has ever really wanted me. I was glad you did for a while. I didn’t expect it to last. I dared to let myself hope, but then you did what I had expected. You got over me."

  "I never did. I thought you were over me." Sean’s voice turned a bit irritated. "Oh, this is ridiculous. You know, both of us have been doing a fair bit of assuming. I think it might be a good idea for us to stop second guessing each other and just say what we feel."

  "That’s hard."

  "It is, but isn’t it time to be honest?"

  "Yes." Neither of them spoke for a long moment as they pondered their words. At last, Erin said, "Can I start?"

  "Of course. Ladies first."

  "Sean, from the night you took me to homecoming, and kissed me in the parking lot until this day, the love I have for you has never wavered, never changed. I love you. You’re my one and only, Sean, forever. If I can’t have you, I don’t want anyone. Why, when I’ve already found my perfect love, would I even attempt to replace you? I would rather have your memory than any other man. And to this day I still want you as much as I ever did."

  She was very close to him, and the temptation was too great. He kissed her, rewarding her sweet words with a tender wet touch of his lips.

  "Are you telling me, Erin, that you’ve never…dated anyone, not in all these years?"

  "Why would I have? No one can compare. Now you, Sean. Tell me what you feel."

  He looked into her soft brown eyes, shining with love. Surely it couldn’t be wrong to love her back. She’d had years to think about this and her feelings hadn’t changed. After everything that had happened, she still wanted him. His resistance broke. Taking her hand in his, he answered her.

  "I love you. I see you the way I always saw you…as the woman I want to marry. I told you that a long time ago. I don’t see you as boring, or a baby. I never did, even when you were eighteen and in high school. It scares the hell out of me, though, to think that one day you might wake up beside me and see the man who took away all your choices, and I would see that regret in your eyes."

  "Silly man. You are my choice. You were my choice four years ago and I have never doubted or regretted it."

  "I don’t understand how you knew at such a young age exactly what you wanted in life."

  "It’s just the way I am. I know what I want. It’s not hard for me to make decisions about really important things. Did I ever tell you about the first time I played the oboe?"

  "No. Tell me."

  "It was in sixth grade. Everyone was trying out different instruments to see what they wanted to play in the band. I had been fooling around with this clarinet, and I liked it, but it wasn’t quite right. Clarinet has this cheerful quality that really didn’t suit me. But I thought it had potential. Then the director handed me a double reed. I blew it and it made a sound like a duck call. I hated it. I couldn’t imagine what on earth would make anyone want to use such a thing. Then she showed me their loaner oboe. It was a mess, covered in fingerprints, tarnished. It even had a big crack in the wood. It was so ugly. I put the reed in it and blew, and it quacked like you can’t even imagine. It was horrible. Then she told me something. She said I had to be gentle with it, not blow so hard. So I took it easy and it came alive in my hands. That day I knew there was nothing else I would ever want to do. Falling in love with you was the same. I just knew you were it. That there would never be anyone else. That’s why I was in such a hurry to go to bed with you."

  He remembered that night, how eager she had been, how tenderly they had made love. She had given him everything she had, without reservation, even though she had not expected him to love her back, to keep loving her. She thought that highly o
f him. His remaining doubts about whether his love would ultimately satisfy her were instantly obliterated. "Oh, Erin, sweet baby. I’m sorry. I should have listened to you."

  "Yes, you should have, she scolded gently, "But it was as much my fault. I didn’t trust that you would want me long term and it kind of became a self fulfilling prophecy. That’s why I didn’t fight for you. I didn’t think I was good enough to hold you anyway."

  "I always felt that you were too good for me, or at least for the kind of life we would have together."

  She tilted her head, considering how to phrase what she wanted to say. "It’s sort of an issue of trust, isn’t it?"

  "What do you mean?"

  She elaborated. "I have to trust that you want me even though I don’t see myself as that desirable. You say you love me, that it won’t change or fade. I have to choose to believe it. You have to trust me too, that I love you as much as I love my oboe, and that being with you is really what I want, more than being a high-powered musician."

  "Are you sure, Erin, that a small town life with me would be enough for you?" He still sounded so tentative. How had they loved each other so intensely without her realizing this? She had to reassure him

  "Yes, absolutely. Are you willing to trust me on this?"

  He looked at her, his eyes filled with longing, and then he nodded slowly.

  "Sean, I’ve been away for three years. I want to go home. Will you be my home?"

  She could see that he liked that. The worried look melted from his face, and his lips pulled back into a smile, revealing those crooked front teeth she’d always found so appealing.

  "If that’s what you want, baby."

  "It is." Her voice was calm and certain, without a hint of doubt.

  "So we’re back together then, just like that?"

  "Just like that. It was always meant to be, I think. I know I haven’t felt right for one single day, since then."

  "Me either," he said thoughtfully, "but you still have another semester of school. You need to finish it."