But Reese was there, holding me through it all and assuring me to trust myself, my gut, my voice. He believed me. Mom believed me. Even Reneé believed me when I came clean, and she assembled the other female students still at Bramlock to petition for Wolfgang’s suspension until the trial was over.
They won.
We, however, did not.
The trial had wrapped up over the following summer, and though it could have been a sad, painful day of loss, I didn’t see it that way. When the jury declared that Wolfgang wasn’t guilty, it didn’t change the fact that he was. It didn’t change the fact that he had assaulted me, and that against all odds, I’d fought back.
I didn’t just let him go free.
And even though he was acquitted of the charges, the university still fired him — and revoked the award they’d bestowed upon him after I’d left. As far as I knew, he was still without a job, without tenure, without a prayer in hell of working with students again. Our trial had been televised, it had made national news, and there wasn’t a pianist in this country who wouldn’t forever remember his name — only now, I was in control of the narrative.
It may not have been jail time, but it was justice.
And I was set free.
Therapy helped more than I ever thought it could after the trial wrapped up. Mom had a peer she had studied with who lived in the city — Doctor Erramouspe — and after even our first meeting, I knew she would be instrumental in my recovery. She had all the right words to say to help me see I wasn’t crazy, that my feelings were valid, that what happened to me did not define me, but it was still a part of my journey, and it was important to recognize that.
I still see her once every two weeks, and I know that with her help and the amazing team behind me, I wouldn’t be standing backstage at Carnegie Hall right now.
“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours,” Reese asked, swaying me gently in his arms.
I smiled, leaning into him with a sigh. “Just thinking of all we’ve been through, all we’ve done in the past three years.”
“I know. So much sex. In so many places.”
I laughed, smacking his arm playfully as he held me tighter, still swaying.
“I was referring to how hard we’ve been working, how much we’ve accomplished.”
“So was I.”
I laughed again, and my heart warmed with the same familiar comfort Reese always brought me. He was my person, in ever sense of the word — my protector, my warrior, my best friend, and my lover all rolled into one.
“Hey,” he said, turning my waist in his hands until I faced him. My hands slipped over his tuxedo jacket, folding together behind his neck as he stared down at me. “How are you feeling? Are you ready?”
I blew out a shaky breath. “My hands are cold and clammy, and my stomach feels like someone is dancing inside it, but otherwise, yeah. I’m good.”
Reese chuckled. “Well, if you were one of my students, I’d offer you some Propranolol to help with the hands situation. But, unfortunately, you actually do have someone dancing around in your stomach. So, no beta blockers for you.”
His hands slipped from my waist to my stomach, framing it in a sort of heart as both of our gazes fell to the spot where he held me. My heart swelled at the sight — my little stomach, rounded just enough to show there was life growing inside it, and my husband’s hands, holding our baby girl just as he always held me — with reverence and care. His wedding band glistened under the dressing room light, and I traced it with my thumb, noting how the diamond on my own finger seemed to glisten and dance in time with his ring.
“Bet you never thought that when this day came, you’d be playing with someone else on that stage with you,” Reese mused, rubbing the silk fabric stretched over my belly.
“Never,” I agreed on a laugh. “But, I’m kind of glad she’ll be with me. It’s a little less scary than going at it alone.”
Reese smiled, his eyes capturing mine before his hands slid up, framing my face. His thumb traced the edge of my jaw, and he shook his head, staring at me like he couldn’t fully comprehend the moment.
“I know tonight is going to be crazy,” he said, voice soft and low. “I know it’s going to fly by, probably in a blur, and you might black out as you play out there. But I want you to take this moment — this one right here — and celebrate. Because you did it, Sarah.” He laughed once, an expression of awe and wonder as he dropped his forehead to mine. “Against all odds, with more mountains to climb than line the ones that line the Rockies… You. Did. It.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, giggling as our daughter squirmed in my stomach. She seemed to be celebrating with us, dancing away, and I let one hand fall over my belly as the other touched Reese’s cheek.
“We did it,” I corrected him.
He shook his head, but I didn’t let him argue before I pressed my lips to his. Tears pricked my eyes, and as much as I wanted to blame the pregnancy hormones, I knew in that moment it had nothing to do with science.
It was that man, that beautiful, broken, passionate man who had brought me back to life. And it was our daughter, growing inside me, thrusting us toward a new world where our family of two would be one of three. It was being there, backstage at Carnegie Hall, knowing thousands of people would start filling the seats that stretched out from the stage I would play on later that night.
It was the rough road we traveled to get to this spot.
And it was knowing that though this had been my dream for so long, it was never the end game.
It was only the beginning.
Reese groaned when I deepened our kiss, pulling back with a shake of his head. “I’m ruining your lipstick.”
“That’s your duty as my hot husband,” I reminded him. And then, I wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “And, my duty as wife of the birthday boy.”
“Ugh,” he groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“Forty years old,” I mused, fingertips wrapping gently in the tendrils of his hair as I marveled at every feature of the man who held me.
“Old man status.”
“Hottest old man I’ve ever seen,” I argued, pressing my lips to his. “And thank God you’re my old man.”
He shook his head, but kissed me anyway, not bothering to argue — which was smart of him, since we both knew who would win.
“Alright, I need to warm up,” I said, breaking our kiss but holding him still in my arms. “Is Mom here yet?”
Reese nodded. “She is. And Randall and Betty, too. I just wanted to come back to wish you luck before we grab our seats.”
“Is it weird that I’m more nervous to play for you four than I am for anyone else?”
He chuckled. “You could stand up there and just wave the whole time and we’d still give you a standing ovation.”
A flutter of butterflies took flight in my stomach, and suddenly, though I knew I needed to warm up, I didn’t want Reese to leave.
“And Rojo?” I asked, trying to make the conversation last.
He smirked. “I took her on a long nice walk in the park before we left, and the walker is going to check on her in a few hours so we can go out after.”
“I wish dogs were allowed at Carnegie.”