Because I Love You: A Short Story

Posted On June 25, 2021

“Play something for me, Ella,” I say, my hands resting on my guitar and my eyes on her face. “Please.”

Her eyes dart to the piano, uneasy. I know what she’ll say, because I’ve asked her this question every day for five years now. She’ll say no. The music hurts too much. Too many memories. Pain.

I see her swallow. I see her dark curls hanging over her forehead, her trembling lips.

My heart almost stops when I see her put her hands on her thighs, her feet slowly shifting. Like she’s about to stand. Her eyes are still on the piano.

“Ella?” I whisper, my voice hardly audible.

She makes no sound. It’s like she doesn’t realize I’m here.  Now on her feet, she takes a step towards the piano. The next second, she’s sitting on the bench. Her hands quiver as they sit on the faded white keys.

Before she plays a single note, she begins to sing. My mind is numb. I haven’t heard her sing in so long—I’ve missed this. So much.

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus,” she sings.

There is a beat of silence, her voice resounding through the still room. Then she gently presses the faded keys, a beautiful chord. I watch her face, her dark eyes closing. She opens her mouth and sings the next line, her fingers accompanying her voice.

The music is slow, halting. But it is music.

“Look full in his wonderful face. The things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of his glory and grace.”

This song. I’ve heard it a million times. But it’s never been so beautiful to my ears.

My hands find their place on the neck of my guitar, and I pluck out the melody that she’s singing. Quietly, hardly noticeable. I want her to take the lead.

“And the things of earth,” she whispers, the music coming to a halt. I open my mouth and whisper the harmony of the last line. My deep voice carries hers to the end of the song. “Will grow strangely dim, in the light of his glory and grace.”

The room is suddenly silent. I carefully set my guitar on its stand, my eyes only for her. I see her back, her shoulders heaving with silent sobs.

I come over to her, set my hand on her shoulder.

“Why?” I whisper.

She knows what I mean without my having to say any more. After years of silence, why would she sing for me now?

She puts her hand over mine, and I can feel it trembling.

“Because I love you,” she answers. I lean closer to catch the words that fall from her lips. “It was time.”

It may seem like nothing to anybody else.

But to me, it is everything.

Everything.

Everything.