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It was a voice she heard countless times, yet it felt unfamiliar. But it wasn't unfamiliar in a negative sense.
They were learning more about each other every day. Even though they had been together as lovers for two years and married for four, it felt like they were starting anew.
“It’s Annette.”
[...Haven’t you slept yet?]
“I was thinking about you.”
[Is this a lie again?]
“This time it’s true.”
He was silent for a moment. Annette wished she could see what expression he was making right now.
She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. Heiner probably already knew the article had been published. And why was she calling at this hour of the night? So...
[I'm sorry.]
Annette paused at the sudden apology. She asked in a soft tone.
“Why are you suddenly apologizing?”
[Because I didn't tell you about the injury in advance.]
“Yes, I found out this morning. I read the newspaper.”
[...Your voice is gentle, but your content doesn’t seem to be, so I’m confused.]
He seemed a little discouraged. Annette gave a soft laugh at that.
"Actually, I was a little angry. It was the same when you were shot in Huntingham, and I always seem to hear about you through the newspaper. You didn't even reply to my letters."
[Annette, in Huntingham—you know, back then I wasn't planning on seeing you anymore. I was going to let you go. There was no need to tell you in that situation...]
“Then why didn’t you reply to the letter?”
[...I did that because I couldn’t guarantee anything.]
“But you could have told me how things are now, if you're safe.”
[Annette, if you're going to be angry, just be angry. It's even scarier when you say it like that.]
“I’m not trying to be angry.”
[Lie.]
“It’s true.”
She heard a small sigh. He seemed genuinely troubled.
"Indeed, I was briefly upset when I read the newspaper, but I'm not angry now. Really."
[No, Annette. It's okay to be angry.]
“You act like you really want me to get angry.”
[I think that would be better.]
"Heiner, we're not really related, and you're not obligated to tell me everything. So you don't have to feel sorry."
It sounded cold at first, like telling him not to feel sorry. Annette concluded calmly.
“If that’s all you want to say to me, then that’s all we have to say.”
[...It’s not that I didn’t say anything because I thought we were done there. Annette, I, I just─.]
His words trailed off slightly. His hesitation seemed to be transmitted through the phone line. After a long pause, Heiner finally spoke.
He explained everything from his current condition to the uncertain future prospects. He even explained that if his hearing deteriorated further, in the worst-case scenario, he could lose it permanently.
Annette's hands trembled slightly as she listened to the story. She bit her dry lips briefly, then released them.
After reading the article, she suspected he might have hearing problems, but she didn't know it was to this extent.
Until their last meeting, they had been conversing without much fuss. He focused on her mouth and occasionally asked her questions, but it wasn't anything that struck her as odd.
“You hid this from me...”
Annette's voice cracked slightly at the end. She cleared her throat and continued.
“Is it because you thought I would leave you if I found out?”
[...rather than that.]
“Rather than that?”
[Even if that happens, I'm afraid you won't leave.]
Annette was speechless at the unexpected answer.
[As I said, I can't guarantee my future condition. Even if I'm fine now, managing my daily life, what if things get worse later? If you still insist on staying by my side...]
The end of his words trembled, rising and falling. Heiner spoke as if he were about to vomit.
[Annette, I can send you away, but I can't stop you from coming to me, just like you did at Pottsman Hospital. That's the limit of my patience.]
“...”
[I can't refuse you, you know.]
The voice sounded somewhat bitter.
Annette suddenly remembered their married life. The countless nights she'd come to his bedroom with foolish hopes, and he'd never once refused her permission.
[I don't want to make you unhappy because of me anymore.]
Those words sounded like he was saying that he was unhappy.
Annette stared blankly straight ahead, then slowly lowered her head. A single yellow light in the darkened house, a circle, illuminated the woman holding the receiver.
The sound of waves crashing gently in the wind drifted through the open window. For a while, they remained silent. The silence dried up like a dehydrated sandy beach.
After a long time, Annette opened her lips.
“...You said you couldn’t come to this composition recital, right?”
On February 27th, she was scheduled to hold a composition recital. However, because the recital overlapped with a major conference, he had no choice but to inform her that he would not attend.
Heiner was deeply saddened and apologetic, but Annette was genuinely unconcerned. It was a small recital, with no fame whatsoever. She was simply focused on the fact that it was her first official performance.
[Yes, but I had someone give you a bouquet of flowers...]
“That’s not necessary. Instead, if you have time in March... could you stop by Santa Molino for a bit?”
Heiner didn't answer immediately, as if he was trying to gauge her intentions. After a few seconds, he answered in a voice that tried to suppress any trace of anxiety.
[I will do that.]
Only then did Annette let out a light sigh, her tension finally relaxing.
“Yes. See you in March then.”
[...Are you going to hang up?]
“We should hang up. It’s too late.”
[It's not even midnight yet.]
“Most people go to bed before midnight.”
[I don't think so.]
It seemed like they'd had a similar conversation before, when he'd pointed out her habit of picking at her food.
"It's amazing how early you wake up. But I don't have the stamina you do. I'm tired."
[...You're tired?]
“I’m tired.”
[Then there's nothing we can do.]
Heiner said with a hint of regret.
[Good night, Annette.]
In the dark silence, his voice, transmitted through the receiver, sounded unusually clear. Annette answered with a faint smile.
“...Good night to you too.”
As Annette devoted herself to completing the song for the recital, time passed quickly, and February was drawing to a close.
All winter, Annette lived as if exiled on a sheet of music. Ryan, worried about whether she was alive or dead, even visited her once to confirm her fate.
Whenever her mind became too complicated or her chest felt heavy while working, Annette would go out to the cliff, feel the wind, and look out at the sea.
She loved the moment when the waves crashed against the cliff and broke into pieces. Watching it, something frozen inside her seemed to melt.
No matter how hard the waves crashed, they never wore down. That was nice.
The sunset swallowed the cliffs of Sunset Cliff every day, then disappeared beyond the horizon. Just as many days passed.
And on February 27th, Annette presented a piano étude at a Bauer composition recital. The piece had no subtitle.
Her piece was an Etude in C minor, for the right hand and arpeggio. It looked easy at first glance, but it was a piece with quite a few difficult technical instructions.
The overall mood of the piece was gloomy. However, the ending, a Picardy cadence in a major key, left a strange sense of hope and lingering emotion.
The composition recital was merely a small event for new composers. However, Annette's first song gradually became a hot topic.
It was partly because of the honest or vulgar interest that followed the name Annette Rosenberg, but also because of the topicality of the song itself.
Her songs, mostly composed of arpeggios, are legato. It was said to be a good song for practice.
Also, although it is an etude, the melody is quite beautiful, and many people said they would like to hear it again performed at a slower tempo than the score, with a lyrical feel.
Annette didn't give her pieces titles; instead simply numbered them. Her pieces were nicknamed "Etude in a Minor" and "Winter Waves."
Also, Felix Kafka, who is currently active as a pianist and music critic, left a short comment about her music, saying, “The emotional aesthetics of pianism.”
After the recital, Annette received a large bouquet of roses with a congratulatory card attached. The flowers were as vibrant and vibrant as those in the rose garden at the Rosenberg mansion.
Time flowed like a torrent. The sun lingered on the cliff for longer and longer.
In March, the last winter wind turned the page of the season.
They were learning more about each other every day. Even though they had been together as lovers for two years and married for four, it felt like they were starting anew.
“It’s Annette.”
[...Haven’t you slept yet?]
“I was thinking about you.”
[Is this a lie again?]
“This time it’s true.”
He was silent for a moment. Annette wished she could see what expression he was making right now.
She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. Heiner probably already knew the article had been published. And why was she calling at this hour of the night? So...
[I'm sorry.]
Annette paused at the sudden apology. She asked in a soft tone.
“Why are you suddenly apologizing?”
[Because I didn't tell you about the injury in advance.]
“Yes, I found out this morning. I read the newspaper.”
[...Your voice is gentle, but your content doesn’t seem to be, so I’m confused.]
He seemed a little discouraged. Annette gave a soft laugh at that.
"Actually, I was a little angry. It was the same when you were shot in Huntingham, and I always seem to hear about you through the newspaper. You didn't even reply to my letters."
[Annette, in Huntingham—you know, back then I wasn't planning on seeing you anymore. I was going to let you go. There was no need to tell you in that situation...]
“Then why didn’t you reply to the letter?”
[...I did that because I couldn’t guarantee anything.]
“But you could have told me how things are now, if you're safe.”
[Annette, if you're going to be angry, just be angry. It's even scarier when you say it like that.]
“I’m not trying to be angry.”
[Lie.]
“It’s true.”
She heard a small sigh. He seemed genuinely troubled.
"Indeed, I was briefly upset when I read the newspaper, but I'm not angry now. Really."
[No, Annette. It's okay to be angry.]
“You act like you really want me to get angry.”
[I think that would be better.]
"Heiner, we're not really related, and you're not obligated to tell me everything. So you don't have to feel sorry."
It sounded cold at first, like telling him not to feel sorry. Annette concluded calmly.
“If that’s all you want to say to me, then that’s all we have to say.”
[...It’s not that I didn’t say anything because I thought we were done there. Annette, I, I just─.]
His words trailed off slightly. His hesitation seemed to be transmitted through the phone line. After a long pause, Heiner finally spoke.
He explained everything from his current condition to the uncertain future prospects. He even explained that if his hearing deteriorated further, in the worst-case scenario, he could lose it permanently.
Annette's hands trembled slightly as she listened to the story. She bit her dry lips briefly, then released them.
After reading the article, she suspected he might have hearing problems, but she didn't know it was to this extent.
Until their last meeting, they had been conversing without much fuss. He focused on her mouth and occasionally asked her questions, but it wasn't anything that struck her as odd.
“You hid this from me...”
Annette's voice cracked slightly at the end. She cleared her throat and continued.
“Is it because you thought I would leave you if I found out?”
[...rather than that.]
“Rather than that?”
[Even if that happens, I'm afraid you won't leave.]
Annette was speechless at the unexpected answer.
[As I said, I can't guarantee my future condition. Even if I'm fine now, managing my daily life, what if things get worse later? If you still insist on staying by my side...]
The end of his words trembled, rising and falling. Heiner spoke as if he were about to vomit.
[Annette, I can send you away, but I can't stop you from coming to me, just like you did at Pottsman Hospital. That's the limit of my patience.]
“...”
[I can't refuse you, you know.]
The voice sounded somewhat bitter.
Annette suddenly remembered their married life. The countless nights she'd come to his bedroom with foolish hopes, and he'd never once refused her permission.
[I don't want to make you unhappy because of me anymore.]
Those words sounded like he was saying that he was unhappy.
Annette stared blankly straight ahead, then slowly lowered her head. A single yellow light in the darkened house, a circle, illuminated the woman holding the receiver.
The sound of waves crashing gently in the wind drifted through the open window. For a while, they remained silent. The silence dried up like a dehydrated sandy beach.
After a long time, Annette opened her lips.
“...You said you couldn’t come to this composition recital, right?”
On February 27th, she was scheduled to hold a composition recital. However, because the recital overlapped with a major conference, he had no choice but to inform her that he would not attend.
Heiner was deeply saddened and apologetic, but Annette was genuinely unconcerned. It was a small recital, with no fame whatsoever. She was simply focused on the fact that it was her first official performance.
[Yes, but I had someone give you a bouquet of flowers...]
“That’s not necessary. Instead, if you have time in March... could you stop by Santa Molino for a bit?”
Heiner didn't answer immediately, as if he was trying to gauge her intentions. After a few seconds, he answered in a voice that tried to suppress any trace of anxiety.
[I will do that.]
Only then did Annette let out a light sigh, her tension finally relaxing.
“Yes. See you in March then.”
[...Are you going to hang up?]
“We should hang up. It’s too late.”
[It's not even midnight yet.]
“Most people go to bed before midnight.”
[I don't think so.]
It seemed like they'd had a similar conversation before, when he'd pointed out her habit of picking at her food.
"It's amazing how early you wake up. But I don't have the stamina you do. I'm tired."
[...You're tired?]
“I’m tired.”
[Then there's nothing we can do.]
Heiner said with a hint of regret.
[Good night, Annette.]
In the dark silence, his voice, transmitted through the receiver, sounded unusually clear. Annette answered with a faint smile.
“...Good night to you too.”
***
As Annette devoted herself to completing the song for the recital, time passed quickly, and February was drawing to a close.
All winter, Annette lived as if exiled on a sheet of music. Ryan, worried about whether she was alive or dead, even visited her once to confirm her fate.
Whenever her mind became too complicated or her chest felt heavy while working, Annette would go out to the cliff, feel the wind, and look out at the sea.
She loved the moment when the waves crashed against the cliff and broke into pieces. Watching it, something frozen inside her seemed to melt.
No matter how hard the waves crashed, they never wore down. That was nice.
The sunset swallowed the cliffs of Sunset Cliff every day, then disappeared beyond the horizon. Just as many days passed.
And on February 27th, Annette presented a piano étude at a Bauer composition recital. The piece had no subtitle.
Her piece was an Etude in C minor, for the right hand and arpeggio. It looked easy at first glance, but it was a piece with quite a few difficult technical instructions.
The overall mood of the piece was gloomy. However, the ending, a Picardy cadence in a major key, left a strange sense of hope and lingering emotion.
The composition recital was merely a small event for new composers. However, Annette's first song gradually became a hot topic.
It was partly because of the honest or vulgar interest that followed the name Annette Rosenberg, but also because of the topicality of the song itself.
Her songs, mostly composed of arpeggios, are legato. It was said to be a good song for practice.
Also, although it is an etude, the melody is quite beautiful, and many people said they would like to hear it again performed at a slower tempo than the score, with a lyrical feel.
Annette didn't give her pieces titles; instead simply numbered them. Her pieces were nicknamed "Etude in a Minor" and "Winter Waves."
Also, Felix Kafka, who is currently active as a pianist and music critic, left a short comment about her music, saying, “The emotional aesthetics of pianism.”
After the recital, Annette received a large bouquet of roses with a congratulatory card attached. The flowers were as vibrant and vibrant as those in the rose garden at the Rosenberg mansion.
Time flowed like a torrent. The sun lingered on the cliff for longer and longer.
In March, the last winter wind turned the page of the season.
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