Chapter 7 - Ask Me Again
Six months later, the chapel piano was finally in tune.
Anna had insisted on repairing it herself.
Her damaged fingers never fully recovered.
She stopped waiting for them to.
Instead, she learned to play differently.
On a warm Sunday afternoon, Dante entered the chapel carrying two coffees.
Anna was practicing.
He sat beside her.
“That sounded terrible.”
She stared at him.
“You know nothing about music.”
“I know what terrible sounds like.”
“Get out.”
“My family donated the restoration money.”
“Then get out of your chapel.”
He smiled.
Bellweather had become strangely accustomed to Dante Moretti.
He still frightened most residents.
Mrs. Parker at the bakery charged him extra because she said wealthy men should pay more for muffins.
Dante never argued.
Anna suspected he was terrified of her.
Lorenzo was awaiting trial.
Victor had accepted a plea agreement in exchange for testimony.
The evidence Anna had hidden four years earlier had dismantled the network Lorenzo built inside Dante’s organization.
But Anna had made one condition before returning to Chicago.
She would not become Elena simply because everyone wanted her to.
So Dante came to Bellweather instead.
Some weeks she remembered everything.
Other weeks, nothing new came.
He never pushed.
That afternoon, Anna finished the song.
Dante placed something beside her.
Black licorice.
She stared at it.
“You're doing this deliberately.”
“Yes.”
“You know I hate these.”
“Yes.”
“Then why?”
“Tradition.”
Anna laughed.
Then noticed the velvet box beside the candy.
Her smile disappeared.
“Dante.”
He didn't touch it.
“I’m not giving your old ring back.”
She looked at him.
“That ring belonged to Elena.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Dante took another box from his pocket.
Anna stared.
“You bought another one?”
“Yes.”
“You're unbelievable.”
“I've been told.”
He opened it.
A simple platinum ring.
No giant diamond.
No dramatic emerald.
Just elegant and quiet.
Anna looked from the ring to him.
“What are you doing?”
“Something I apparently did badly the first time.”
He stood.
Anna immediately pointed at him.
“Don't kneel.”
Dante stopped.
“Why?”
“Because then I'll cry.”
“You're already crying.”
She touched her cheek.
“Damn it.”
Dante smiled.
Anna laughed through the tears.
Then he became serious.
“Anna Reed.”
She looked at him.
“Not Elena?”
“No.”
Something in her expression softened.
Dante continued.
“I spent four years looking for the woman I lost.”
He glanced at the piano.
“But somewhere along the way, I realized I wasn't supposed to bring her back.”
Anna’s lips trembled.
“I was supposed to meet the woman she became.”
He held out the ring.
“I don't care which memories return.”
Anna looked at him.
“I don't care which name you choose.”
He took her damaged left hand carefully.
“And I don't care that this hand works differently now.”
She squeezed his fingers as much as she could.
Dante smiled.
“I only care about the answer to one question.”
Anna whispered, “Ask me properly.”
Recognition flashed between them.
The exact words.
Four years earlier.
Dante laughed softly.
Then asked:
“Anna Reed, Elena Marconi, or whatever impossible name you decide to use tomorrow…”
She laughed.
“Dante.”
“Will you marry me?”
Anna pretended to think.
“You're still terrible at proposals.”
“I know.”
“And controlling.”
“Improving.”
“Questionable.”
“Anna.”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
Dante went completely still.
She laughed.
“I said yes.”
“I heard you.”
“You don't look like it.”
“I waited four years to hear it again.”
He slipped the ring onto her finger.
Anna looked down.
For a moment, another memory surfaced.
The old ring.
Rain against glass.
Dante’s younger face.
Then the memory faded.
She didn't chase it.
Instead, she turned toward the piano.
“Play something with me.”
“I can't play.”
“You used to know three notes.”
“I've forgotten them.”
Anna smiled.
“Then I'll teach you.”
She placed his finger on middle C.
Dante pressed it.
The note rang perfectly through the restored chapel.
He looked at her.
“Not flat anymore.”
“No.”
Anna rested her head against his shoulder.
Outside, bells began ringing across Bellweather.
Dante looked at their hands together on the keys.
“Do you remember this place now?”
Anna thought about it.
Some pieces had returned.
Others might never return.
But for the first time, that didn't frighten her.
She looked at the man who had searched for Elena for four years—and had finally learned to love Anna without demanding she become someone else.
“Yes,” she said.
Dante smiled.
Anna squeezed his hand.
“But even if I forget again…”
She pressed the key.
May you like
A clear C filled the chapel.
“…we can start from here.”
