Chapter 6.2

Placing her hands on the keys, unsure if they were even the right ones, her mind filled with the words she had been rehearsing: 

How have you been? Have you been busy? What have you been doing? 

Yet, unsure of which words were appropriate, she kept her mouth firmly shut.

It was Mr. Wharton who spoke first.

“How have you been?”

His kind voice asked after her well-being. Natalie tried to respond casually with, “Of course.” But as she was enveloped in the cool and fresh scent surrounding him, she forgot her words. 

When she raised her head, she saw Mr. Wharton’s profile up close. With one hand resting on the piano stand, he gazed at the sheet music. His straight nose and full lips resembled a painting—completely out of place in Natalie’s ordinary life. 

Was it because I hadn’t seen him for a few days that I felt shy? 

Natalie, wrapped in an odd tension, shifted slightly to the side.

Mr. Wharton’s gaze, which had been on the sheet music, turned to Natalie. His eyes, filled with a hint of laughter, playfully narrowed.

“Why are you moving away?”

“I’m not moving away. This spot is just more comfortable.”

Natalie made an excuse and forced herself to look at the sheet music. She was trying to follow his earlier instruction to “continue what you were doing” by focusing on the piano.

She pressed the keys a few times, pretending to play. But the moment Mr. Wharton sat beside her, Natalie became self-conscious about her appearance. The dress she had put on without much thought, her loosely tied hair, and even her posture—everything made her sit up straight. 

Her focus scattered, and the sheet music no longer registered in her mind. Natalie glanced sideways at him. Her gaze met his blue eyes. Startled, as if caught stealing a glance, she flinched.

Whether he was near or far, the man who always stole her attention now wore an amused smile.

“You should be looking at the keys, not my face.”

It was a remark that shifted the blame for her distraction onto her. Feeling wronged, Natalie frowned.

“…What am I supposed to do when it’s right there?”

She pressed the keys harder than necessary, producing a sharp, jarring sound.

“How have you been, Mr. Wharton?”

“I’ve been well.”

His response came without hesitation. Natalie’s fingers pressed the keys with even more force, and the sound deepened. She flipped through the sheet music, trying to push away the frustration that was welling up. Mr. Wharton kindly helped her turn the pages.

“And you, Natalie?”

“I’ve been… not so well. I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

She cut off her words, revealing just enough of her true feelings. Yet, the question she truly wanted to ask lingered on the tip of her tongue. As Mr. Wharton let go of the sheet music, the words slipped out before she could stop them.

“Have you thought about me too, Mr. Wharton?”

“…Have you thought about me?”

“……”

The silence was so profound that even the sound of raindrops trickling down the window seemed audible. Natalie realized she had inadvertently revealed her feelings by saying “too.” Her carefully hidden emotions were laid bare before the perceptive man.

“No.”

Her response came too late. Mr. Wharton’s clear laughter filled the room. Though Natalie had said “no,” it felt as if she had answered “yes.” 

“I’ll have to try harder then, to make sure you can’t help but think of me.”

Mr. Wharton’s resolve quickly turned into action. The moment his soft lips brushed her cheek, Natalie flinched, and her fingers slipped off the keys. Mr. Wharton smiled serenely, as if nothing had happened.

“Now, every time you sit at the piano, you’ll think of me, won’t you?”

Natalie rubbed her cheek with her fingertips. The feather-light sensation lingered no matter how much she tried to wipe it away. Mr. Wharton took her hand as she rubbed her cheek.

“Every time these fingers touch the keys, think of me.”

This time, he left a kiss on her finger joints. The kiss then moved to the corner of her eye. It felt like a curse, gently etched into her heart, ensuring she could never forget.

“Every time you open your eyes…”

His blue eyes locked onto hers. Held by his gaze, Natalie couldn’t look away. His satisfied expression softened into a gentle smile.

“Think of me.”

Natalie furrowed her brows deeply.

“Are you trying to ruin my life?”

“May I?”

He asked so sweetly for permission. But Natalie felt it was out of order to seek consent after the fact. She had no way to respond to an invader who sought permission only after barging in.

Mr. Wharton’s mischievous smile lingered as he looked at her lips. He lightly brushed her lower lip with his fingertip.

“How far will you let me go?”

Natalie instinctively tightened her lips, sensing where he was heading next.

This is truly too much.

If Mr. Wharton could go about his days so well while she had to think of him every single day, it was undeniably one-sided, unfair, and utterly unreasonable.

Natalie grabbed Mr. Wharton by the collar of his shirt. Her grip was firm, resembling someone seizing another by the throat. Rather than romantic, her actions were rough as she held him and lightly brushed her lips against his.

“Now, Mr. Wharton, you must think of me too. At least when you’re at the piano.”

Mr. Wharton blinked silently, as if reflecting on what had just happened, placing a hand over his lips. A faint smile spread across the corners of his mouth where Natalie had touched.

“I will.”

At his kind voice and smile, Natalie’s heart began to race uncontrollably, as if Mr. Wharton had pressed the pedal of her emotions. Her pulse thudded loudly, echoing wildly without her permission. 

To prevent the commotion from growing louder, Natalie averted her gaze, pressing the piano keys firmly. She stepped on the soft pedal to reduce the volume of the resonating sound.

“Do you like the piano?”

As the sound of the piano softened, Mr. Wharton’s voice became clearer. Natalie continued pressing the keys as she answered.

“Mrs. Mars asked me to play the piano at a recital. So, I need to practice.”

“You’ve been given an important role.”

“But it’s not going well. I can’t seem to memorize it.”

Natalie let out a shallow sigh. When she tried to memorize the keys, her pace slowed. She hesitated, missed the rhythm, and her performance fell apart. 

Each time that happened, she would refocus and start again from the beginning, only to falter once more. Achieving perfection seemed an unattainable goal.

As Natalie struggled to get past a single line in the sheet music, repeatedly circling the same section, Mr. Wharton turned the pages of the music. He flipped all the way to the very last page.

“Just memorize the ending.”

Mr. Wharton said. His hand stopped at a page Natalie hadn’t dared to approach.

“…Just the ending?”

“It’s a method I used as a child—memorizing only the beginning and the end. You can play freely in between, but as long as you end it properly, it’s fine. People don’t really listen anyway. They’ll only remember the conclusion because they have to applaud at the end.”

Mr. Wharton gently placed Natalie’s wandering fingers on the correct keys.

“No one can beat someone who acts confident.”

For a moment, Natalie imagined a young Mr. Wharton. She wondered if little Wharton had been as sly as the adult version, if he had been as charming, as quick to smile, and as universally adored. She thought he probably had been.

While Natalie was lost in thoughts of young Mr. Wharton, the adult version lightly tapped the back of her hand to encourage her to continue playing. Natalie resumed her performance. Perhaps because her urgency had subsided, her playing felt more relaxed than before. Hearing the improved melody, a smile of relief spread across her face.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“It’s an honor to be of assistance.”

Mr. Wharton tilted his head slightly with a polite demeanor. It was an oddly formal gesture for a teacher who had just shared a trick. Natalie chuckled softly. With her lighter heart, her fingers moved more freely.

As Natalie played again, Mr. Wharton spoke.

“I wonder why Mrs. Mars chose you as the pianist, Miss Maron. What was her criterion?”

He quietly guided Natalie’s misplaced hand back to the correct key.

“Was it skill, diligence, or perhaps…”

His gaze lingered on Natalie. He studied her face as she focused on the music, then continued.

“Did she choose someone beautiful?”

At his words, Natalie subtly furrowed her brows. Her concentration scattered once more.

“No, Mrs. Mars is simply trying to help me. She wants me to appear as a cultured bride in front of you, Mr. Wharton. Though I do find the idea of marrying someone just because they play the piano well a bit odd.”

Natalie paused her slowing performance and continued speaking.

“She was fooled by your acting, Mr. Wharton. She thinks we’re in love. But that’s impossible, isn’t it?”

“……”

The room fell silent. After a moment, Mr. Wharton smiled faintly.

“You’re right. I must practice harder if I’m to convince Leonard.”

Natalie and Mr. Wharton, through their words, reminded each other that they were merely putting on a false act. It was all for the sake of being matched with someone else, no matter how kind their words to one another might sound.

Though the sunlight by the window remained warm, a silence hung between them. Natalie placed her hands back on the piano keys just as Edgar returned his attention to the sheet music. Both hid their true feelings, as if simultaneously opening a script.

Natalie steadied her wavering heart.

Get a grip, Natalie.

She repeated to herself with every note she pressed. Falling for someone destined to marry someone else would be utterly foolish.