Chapter 10 end

It started to rain.I turned up my collar and let the shower drench me through. I came to the bank of the East River and started walking aimlessly.Runners who are not afraid of hardships ran past me in both directions, taking pleasure in suffering.I keep walking.My heart is hurting. It took nearly two hours for me to realize: For the first time in almost 20 years, I was free, completely free.The ghost that haunted me was gone. it's getting dark.I suddenly realized that my pager was ringing.I reached into my pocket and took it out. A brief message appeared on the display: Your wife is waiting.

Finally, drenched and shivering, I inserted the key into the lock of my own door.I entered the door and heard the music of Brahms' Sonata in F Major.It was my dear wife, holding the cello, looking out the window, completely immersed in the music, with her back to me. As usual, the piano accompaniment is music from the speakers.Evie was so engrossed she didn't notice my presence.Only after I turned off the stereo did she realize I was in the room.She looked up at me, and before she could speak, I put my finger on my lips and told her to be silent. She watched me go to the bookshelf without saying a word, and found the piano score of Brahms' piece.

I sat in front of the piano, turned on the lights, and started turning the sheet music to the part she was pulling, then turned to her and said softly, "Let's start at bar 194, shall we?" She nodded suspiciously. Slowly, tentatively, I began to play for her. It's not easy.My fingers are very stiff.But no matter how clumsy I was, I was playing.I played the second theme alone.Evie raised his bow and played the tune I had played to join me.Then we played together, communicating our feelings in the language of Brahms. We reunited in music, it was a miracle, and yet it was the most natural thing.As I play, I try to figure out what it is that suddenly breaks out of the prison of musical silence, allows me to express again, allows me to sing.

We stopped on the F major chord. "Evie..." I started. She interrupted me. "Let's play the second movement." She started with a slow pizzicato, and then a low and long tune, and my piano sound echoed in it, embracing her melody. At this time, the harmonious music formed by our cooperation is the only sound that exists in the whole world. "Evie, I've always loved you," I whispered. "I mean, always. From the moment we met at school. I was too shy to say it. Sometimes, we practiced together. Qin Shi, I tried to express it to you." "Yes, I know," she said tearfully, "if you had heard my answer to you, you would never have let me go."

"But does all this matter to us now?" I asked. "No, Matt," she whispered, "we're in this together, and that's all that matters." The next movement is a passionate allegro.