Hearts Remember What Minds Try To Forget by Rex Wilder 39

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For the next few days, I practiced the competition pieces with Noah. This subtle, almost tangible, tension hummed between us. 

After one practice session, Noah didn’t leave. Instead, he took a step closer to me. The space between us shrank instantly, and I caught a faint scent of cedarwood from him. 

Noah looked at my soft profile, his voice dropping, a hint of nervousness yet absolute seriousness in his tone: 

“Ella.” 

It was like I knew exactly what was coming. My heart fluttered, and I unconsciously clenched my hands, looking up at him. 

“From the first time I heard you play, your music captivated me.” 

“I was so curious. What had this girl been through to play such a sad yet determined melody?” Noah’s gaze was honest and intense, with a barely perceptible hint of obsession. 

“Your music tells a story, it has struggle, and most of all, it has a life force that completely draws me in. These past few months, watching you come out of your shell, it’s like seeing a pearl, once dulled, shining bright again.” 

His words were direct, powerful, and full of admiration. 

“I want to stand by your side, not just as someone who admires you.” 

Noah gazed deep into my eyes, every word clear, 

“Ella, I like you.” 

“Give me a chance. Let me stand by your side, share every emotion with you. Let me truly step into your world, into your heart, okay?” 

My heart was absolutely pounding. 

Noah was undeniably a seriously charming guy. He was gentle, a total gentleman, mature–flawless in every way. 

Spending time with him lately had given me a sense of ease and comfort I hadn’t felt in ages. 

Every time I played, he’d catch the smallest shifts and feelings in my music. Then he’d hit me with these spot–on critiques and tips. 

He wasn’t shy about how much he appreciated me. After every performance, he was always the first to clap, showering me with praise. But he always kept just the right distance, never making me feel pressured. Just a comfortable sense of being respected and cherished. 

That feeling of being deeply understood and appreciated? For me, right now, it was fatally attractive. 

I gotta admit, spending all this time with such a charming guy, yeah, my heart definitely fluttered. 

But the scars, still raw, the pain from betrayal and heartbreak, they just swallowed up any hint of that romantic flutter. 

I’d barely crawled out of a marriage that almost broke me, completely drained and scarred. I was just starting to find some peace of mind and get a grip on myself again. 

I just can’t jump into another unknown relationship right now, putting all my happiness and sadness on someone else. 

I’m terrified of making the same mistakes, and even more terrified of losing this hard–won freedom and peace. 

I stayed silent for a long time, but Noah didn’t push me at all. He just watched me, focused and gentle, patiently waiting for my 

response. 

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Finally, I looked up at Noah, my eyes clear and honest, my voice calm but firm: 

“Noah, thank you for your appreciation and… your feelings. You were the first friend I made here, and you’ve helped me so much. I’m really grateful, and touched.” 

I paused, as if carefully choosing my words. 

“But I just came out of a really failed… and painful relationship. Right now, I just want to focus on my piano, on finding my true self.” 

“I’m just… not ready for a new relationship right now. It wouldn’t be fair to you.” 

Even though he probably saw it coming, a flicker of light in Noah’s eyes dimmed, almost imperceptibly, for a split second. But there was no awkwardness or anger, no sign of being rejected. 

He just looked at me quietly, at the clear resolve in my eyes, that unwavering strength to find myself again after all I’d been through. 

After a moment of silence, a slow, gentle curve touched Noah’s lips, full of understanding and acceptance. 

“Ella, I get it.” 

His voice was still soft. 

“Forgive me for being so pushy. To be honest… I kind of knew what your answer would be, but I couldn’t help myself. I rushed to tell you how I feel, like some lovesick kid.” 

He chuckled, a self–deprecating sound that eased the tension between us. 

“Ella, I hope my confession hasn’t put any pressure on you. I just want you to know you are incredibly worthy of love. Your past relationship was just an experience; it shaped who you are now, but it doesn’t define who you’ll be. You’re incredibly radiant, right 

now.” 

Noah didn’t press me on how long it would take to get over that failed relationship. He didn’t try to use some grand declaration of love to change my mind, either. 

He simply took a small step back, reinstating the comfortable, safe distance between us. 

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