Page 58 of Wildflower and Whiskey
“Yes, it’s safe. Besides, I think we need to live our lives in a way that doesn’t show fear,” I said.
“You’re so brave. I’m in awe of you,” he replied.
When my eyes burned, he pretended not to notice and only tightened his fingers around mine. When my phone buzzed with a weather alert and I flinched before I saw the banner, he reached across my lap and set it face down on the coffee table.
We brushed teeth in the bathroom. He reclaimed the futon, stretching out, one forearm under his head, facing the door. I climbed into bed and lay on my side, staring through the crack of the barely parted blinds and the dark line where orchard became sky. Somewhere down the deck, the motion light blinked on, and Phoenix’s phone chimed a softding. He glanced, then set it back down.
“Will you sleep?” he asked the ceiling.
“I think so,” I said. “Because you’re here.”
His exhale was quiet and satisfied. “Good.”
A beat passed. Two. The kind of hush you only get on a property like Maple Valley, tucked between trees and the soft spine of hills. My breathing slowed to match his.
“Phoenix?” I whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“Always,” he said. And then, after a moment, so soft I almost missed it, “Tu n’es plus seule.”
You’re not alone anymore.
The words filled my heart, giving me warmth. My emotional exhaustion kicked in and I let my eyes close. I let the cameras keep watch and the man on the futon be the wall between the world and my son. For the first time in a long time, the darkdidn’t feel like loneliness. It felt safe and warm, like a blanket tucked to my chin.
Outside, the motion light clicked on and off once more. Phoenix’s breathing evened out. He said he was staying, that I wouldn’t be alone anymore.
This time I believed him.
CHAPTER 27
Elyna
Morning came with a gray, low sky and wind that tugged at the maple leaves, but despite the dreary day I was smiling. Braden babbled through his breakfast, smearing banana across his tray, and I was humming as if my life was all figured out. It was far from it, but Phoenix had slept on the futon, one arm tucked behind his head, facing the door all night like a sentry. I’d woken twice to the soft ping of his phone, motion alerts from the cameras he’d just installed and both times he’d murmured, “It’s nothing,” without opening his eyes. Somehow it had been enough. I’d slept. Not deeply, not without dreams, but I’d slept.
By eight fifteen, Braden was zipped into his quilted jacket and we were headed down the stairs. Phoenix carried him; I carried the diaper bag.
“I’ll meet you at the brewery after drop-off,” I said, letting my fingers linger on Phoenix’s wrist a second longer than necessary.
We walked up to my car and I saw it was cleaned. I looked over to Phoenix. “When did you have time to clean it?”
“After you fell asleep I stepped out.” He shrugged.
My eyes softened on him, “I have so many things to thank you for,” I breathed.
“No, you don’t, Elyna. You shouldn’t have to be dealing with any of this,” he insisted.
“Well, I’ve made mistakes, Phoenix. Now I’m paying for it. The only thing I don’t regret is my beautiful boy. I think he saved me from myself.”
“You have a lot going for you, Elyna Chabot. Don’t forget that, and stop blaming yourself. We all make mistakes,” he said.
I guffawed. “Not you, you’re too perfect.”
“Yes, me,” he countered instantly. “I’ve made choices I regret. It’s called living and learning. You can’t let them weigh you down.”
“I appreciate that.” I rubbed his arm. “Now, I’ve gotta get this handsome boy to daycare,” I said, leaning up on my tiptoes to peck his lips.
