He wasn't even going to try to convince her to turn down Professor Yang's offer. Which meant Louis was okay with their being separated for the foreseeable future. Maybe he hadn’t agreed with her decision before the accident to take a break from her career. Was that the real reason he’d never told her that she’d decided to do so?
Gemma sucked in a breath of disappointment, unable to look her husband directly in the eye. She wasn't naive enough to think that he'd drop all his responsibilities back in Singapore and stay here in Boston with her. But she thought they would at least spend some time going over the various options they had as a couple. Instead, he seemed to want her to pursue this opportunity. Which meant they'd reached a tangent at a most critical point in their marriage.
How could she work to remember him if they were thousands of miles apart? Unable to see each other for days on end? Louis didn't seem to have considered that question. Or he didn't care.
"So I'll go tell my mom to accept?"
He simply nodded and smiled. No argument or counter whatsoever.
"I guess I'll see you later then," she said, rising from her chair and fleeing into the house.
When she reached her room, Gemma released the breath she'd been holding and leaned against the shut door. She thought Louis would talk her out of this, that he'd tell her he loved her and couldn't stand to be apart from her, even if she didn't know the past they'd shared together.
How naive of her. If anything, Louis was probably reaching the end of his patience. It had been weeks since the accident and the only snippets of memory she'd managed to resurface involved eating lobster and a card game. All this time and she couldn't even remember their wedding. Or how he had proposed. No wonder he'd reached the end of his rope.
He was probably tired of waiting. Maybe he was even looking forward to spending some time apart. Gemma had no way of knowing, did she? This version of her didn't really know the man.
All she did know at the moment was who she was before the accident. She may have lost three years of her life, but there was one way to determine how much of her craft had been impacted. It was finally time to determine exactly how much musical achievement she'd lost along with her life memories.
Her mother had mentioned that she'd mastered the Sibelius concerto enough to play it for a paying audience that night in Boston, right before her accident.
With shaky fingers, she pulled out her violin to try playing the piece once and for all. But when she put bow to string, it wasn't the concerto that began to flow from her fingertips. It was something entirely new.
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