Marriage Named Hatred Chapter 20
No one knew how the news had reached Bastian, but he took the instrument without a word.
By the time he arrived at the luthier’s workshop, it was already two in the morning.
He did not know where he had gotten the address, but he barged straight in and cornered the luthier at the door just as the man was about to close up.
“This instrument had to be fixed within two days.”
The luthier was an old man in his sixties. He had made and repaired instruments in Paris for forty years and had seen all kinds of rich people, and all kinds of lunatics too. But the man in front of him still made him a little afraid.
He took the case, glanced at the instrument, and then shook his head.
“The damage was too severe. I could replace broken strings, but the scratches on the top plate needed to be refinished, and then I had to wait for the glue to cure. At least a week.”
“I couldn’t wait.” Bastian’s voice was low. “She competed the day after tomorrow. You had to fix it.”
The luthier spread his hands. “Young man, this wasn’t a matter of money—”
“200,000.”
The luthier froze.
Bastian looked at him. “You started tonight and handed it over tomorrow morning. If it was fixed, it was 200,000. And after that, I invested in your workshop.”
The luthier opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but when he met those eyes, nothing came out.
He lowered his head, opened the case again, and studied the scratch closely.
“…I’ll try.”
Meanwhile, on the other side, Theodore walked Annelise back to her dorm, but he did not leave.
He sat on the bench beneath her dorm building, watching her window; the light stayed on.
At three in the morning, the light went out.
He stood up, worked his stiff neck a little, then went to a twenty-four-hour café and bought two cups of hot chocolate.
He drank one himself and held the other in his hands, waiting for her to wake up.
At seven in the morning, Annelise came downstairs with swollen eyes and froze when she saw Theodore sitting on the bench.
Theodore handed her the hot chocolate. “Let’s go. I’d already booked the rehearsal room. Today you practiced with my instrument.”
She took it and looked into his eyes; they were puffy too—he clearly had not slept all night.
“You…”
“Drink. It wouldn’t taste good once it got cold.” He stood up, cut her off, and walked ahead.
In the rehearsal room, Theodore handed her his instrument.
“Use it for now. It wasn’t as comfortable as yours, but the tone was decent.”
Annelise took it, set it on her shoulder, and tried a few notes.
Then she stopped and called his name: “Theodore.”
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t ask me… who fixed that instrument?”
Theodore was silent for a moment. “When you wanted to tell me, you would.”
She looked at him and suddenly did not know what to say.
Theodore sat down at the piano and opened the score. “Come on. Today we practiced the third movement. You needed to steady your touch so that when your instrument came back, you could go straight on stage.”
She watched his back for a few seconds.
Then she raised the instrument and followed his tempo.
The night before the competition, the instrument was delivered back.
The front desk called and asked Annelise to come down and pick it up, saying someone had dropped it off.
She went downstairs and saw the familiar case, with a note placed beside it.
“I’m sorry. Good luck.”
There was no signature.
She recognized the handwriting.
She stood in the lobby, staring at the note for a long time.
Theodore came down the stairs and stopped behind her. “He sent it?”
Annelise nodded.
“It was fixed?”
She opened the case.
The instrument lay quietly inside. The strings had been replaced, and the scratch on the body was almost invisible.
Only up close could she make out a faint mark.
She gently stroked the mark, and a slight texture came through her fingertips.
No matter how well it had been repaired, the mark was still there.
Theodore said nothing; he only stood beside her and stayed with her.
After a long while, Annelise closed the case, lifted her head, and smiled at him. “Let’s go. The competition was tomorrow.”