The Fireworks He Set For Her - Chapter 7: Chapter 7
You are reading The Fireworks He Set For Her, Chapter 7: Chapter 7. Read more chapters of The Fireworks He Set For Her.
That was the moment Rafael truly fell for me.
I settled beside him, my voice barely above a whisper. "Rafael, we need to end this."
His gaze burned with desperation. "Lily, we can fix this—I swear. Play piano whenever you want. Just..e home with me. I was wrong. I know I messed up."
I shook my head. "Just go. I don't want you here."
The wounds he'd left ran too deep—scars that would never fully heal.
His fingers tightened around mine, raw regret choking his words. "Then I'm staying too. Wherever you are, that's where I belong."
His phone buzzed insistently. After silencing it twice, he finally answered with a frustrated click of his tongue. A woman's hysterical sobs crackled through the speaker, and his expression darkened.
"Jenna's been in an accident," he muttered after hanging up. "I have to go."
A bitter laugh escaped me. "Of course you do."
"I'll come back," he vowed, guilt flashing in his eyes as he rushed off. "Wait for me."
The next morning, I handed my resignation to my mentor. "I'm leaving—going overseas to teach music."
"You can't!" they protested. "That region's unstable. You're not seriously risking your life just to avoid Rafael?"
I flexed my hand—the same one he'd once shattered—and smiled sadly. "This isn't about him. Those kids have nothing. If my music can give them one moment of peace..." My voice wavered. "And let's be honest—my technique's been slipping. I won't drag the ensemble down."
Seeing my resolve, they finally relented.
For three years, I lived on a knife's edge in that war-torn country. But those children—their laughter as they learned scales, their wonder at their first recital—made it worth every danger. Music became their lifeline, fragile blossoms pushing through concrete.
Then one afternoon, a voice stopped me mid-stride:
"Lily? Is that really you?"
Rafael's old friend gaped at me. "Do you have any idea how hard he's looked for you? The man's been obsessed."
I'd deliberately avoided all news of Rafael, though sometimes memories would surface like phantom pains.
The friend continued, "That night Jenna called? She lied about being pregnant. That's why he ran back—he thought she was carrying his child."
So that was the truth. Not an accident at all.
"By the time Rafael discovered her scam and you'd vanished..." He shook his head. "He ruined her. Drove her into bankruptcy. There's footage online of her scavenging like a stray dog."
He searched my face for vindication, but I felt nothing—just numb detachment.
"Look, I get why you hate him," he pressed, "but Rafael's a wreck. Drunk every night screaming your name. Bought a dozen pianos hoping you'd return. And the baby..." His voice dropped. "He still sleeps with the onesies he bought, clutching them like they're holy relics. The guy's completely lost it."
I settled beside him, my voice barely above a whisper. "Rafael, we need to end this."
His gaze burned with desperation. "Lily, we can fix this—I swear. Play piano whenever you want. Just..e home with me. I was wrong. I know I messed up."
I shook my head. "Just go. I don't want you here."
The wounds he'd left ran too deep—scars that would never fully heal.
His fingers tightened around mine, raw regret choking his words. "Then I'm staying too. Wherever you are, that's where I belong."
His phone buzzed insistently. After silencing it twice, he finally answered with a frustrated click of his tongue. A woman's hysterical sobs crackled through the speaker, and his expression darkened.
"Jenna's been in an accident," he muttered after hanging up. "I have to go."
A bitter laugh escaped me. "Of course you do."
"I'll come back," he vowed, guilt flashing in his eyes as he rushed off. "Wait for me."
The next morning, I handed my resignation to my mentor. "I'm leaving—going overseas to teach music."
"You can't!" they protested. "That region's unstable. You're not seriously risking your life just to avoid Rafael?"
I flexed my hand—the same one he'd once shattered—and smiled sadly. "This isn't about him. Those kids have nothing. If my music can give them one moment of peace..." My voice wavered. "And let's be honest—my technique's been slipping. I won't drag the ensemble down."
Seeing my resolve, they finally relented.
For three years, I lived on a knife's edge in that war-torn country. But those children—their laughter as they learned scales, their wonder at their first recital—made it worth every danger. Music became their lifeline, fragile blossoms pushing through concrete.
Then one afternoon, a voice stopped me mid-stride:
"Lily? Is that really you?"
Rafael's old friend gaped at me. "Do you have any idea how hard he's looked for you? The man's been obsessed."
I'd deliberately avoided all news of Rafael, though sometimes memories would surface like phantom pains.
The friend continued, "That night Jenna called? She lied about being pregnant. That's why he ran back—he thought she was carrying his child."
So that was the truth. Not an accident at all.
"By the time Rafael discovered her scam and you'd vanished..." He shook his head. "He ruined her. Drove her into bankruptcy. There's footage online of her scavenging like a stray dog."
He searched my face for vindication, but I felt nothing—just numb detachment.
"Look, I get why you hate him," he pressed, "but Rafael's a wreck. Drunk every night screaming your name. Bought a dozen pianos hoping you'd return. And the baby..." His voice dropped. "He still sleeps with the onesies he bought, clutching them like they're holy relics. The guy's completely lost it."
End of The Fireworks He Set For Her Chapter 7. Continue reading Chapter 8 or return to The Fireworks He Set For Her book page.