Both men watched her quietly.
Something in her posture had changed.
She brushed back her midnight-dark hair, placed the violin under her chin, and adjusted the strings.
Took a few deep breaths.
She finally chose a piece…The Last Waltz.
Her bow met the strings, and the melody unfurled, delicate and precise.
Her eyes closed. Her hands moved instinctively, she'd played this piece countless times.
Images flooded her mind.
Her parents, her father playing this same song, her mother holding her tiny hands and spinning her softly around the living room.
Their laughter still echoed in her ears.
Then newer memories bled in.
Her father, weaker, the tremor in his hands.
How she would take the violin from him and play instead, while her mother held his hands, trying to move together despite everything.
How could she still remember their laughter so clearly?
She missed them so much.
Before she knew it, tears slipped past her closed eyes.
Her father had died, and afterward, she played the same song for her mother while she read, while she cooked, while she tried to sleep.
Sometimes she'd pull her mother up to dance, giggling through tears.
Her mother's flushed cheeks. The warmth of her voice.
"Mom, you're so cute and pretty that if I were a boy and you weren't my mom, I'd totally marry you."
Her mother's laughter would ring through the house.
On difficult nights, that same voice would whisper softly to her.
You're our hope, Diana. You've always been our joy. You'll be the light in someone else's darkness one day… like the moon on a night with no stars.
She couldn't finish the song.
Her arms went limp, the bow slipping from her fingers.
She set the violin down and buried her face in her hands, silent sobs shaking her shoulders.
Jacob couldn't take it.
He knew nothing he said would help and watching her cry like that was unbearable.
He sighed, frustrated, and left the room.
Matthew, however, sat there.
Anger or maybe helplessness tightened inside him.
He dragged hard on his cigarette, eyes fixed on her trembling frame.
What the hell was he supposed to do to make her stop crying?
He hadn't done anything to her.
Why did seeing her like this mess with him so much?
He stubbed out the cigarette and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, poured a glass, and knelt beside her.
He caught her wrists, forcing her to look up.
Her eyes were red and glassy.
He clenched his jaw.
+Drink.
She shook her head weakly.
He pushed the glass closer.
+Drink it. You'll pass out from crying if you don't.
She took a few sips.
-S-sorry… I didn't mean to ruin the night. I just… thought of my parents.
And the tears came again.
She cried for five full minutes until there was nothing left.
Sniffling, she rubbed her eyes.
Matthew grabbed a tissue and held it up to her nose.
+Blow.
Her eyes widened. She shook her head.
He sighed and pinched her nose himself, wiping it clean.
-ouch… she muttered.
Sometimes, she really was like a child.
She glanced around, noticed Jacob was gone.
-Where's Jacob?
+He left. Go call him back if you're done crying.
Embarrassed, she bit her lip and went to the door.
Jacob was leaning against the wall, phone in hand.
-Jake?
He looked up, smiled softly, and walked to her.
_You okay, little one?
-Yeah. Sorry if I worried you.
He pulled her into a light hug and kissed her forehead.
_I can guess why that happened.
-Why?
_Because you cry easily now. You didn't use to, did you?
She gave a sad smile.
-No… I wasn't this soft before.
_There's nothing wrong with that. As long as it's not because someone hurt you. I'll find a good therapist for you. That okay?
-Yeah… I'd appreciate that, actually.
Matthew's voice called out from inside.
+I ate the last slice of cheesecake.
Jacob yelled back,
_You wouldn't dare!