Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The days were growing shorter, the sun dipping below the horizon earlier with each passing evening. I watched the golden light fade to dusky purple, casting long shadows across the estate's grounds. The air carried a hint of autumn's crispness, mingling with the earthy scent of freshly turned soil from our landscaping efforts.
Time's passage was marked by the estate's gradual transformation. Each day felt like a drop in the bucket, but collectively, the changes were breathtaking. It was as if the house was shedding its neglected past, revealing its true character overnight. The satisfaction of watching our vision come to life was intoxicating.
I stood on the back terrace after another exhausting but fruitful day of progress. A warmth bloomed in my chest that had nothing to do with the physical labor. For the first time in longer than I cared to admit, I felt a sense of belonging. These people—my newfound family—who shared a deep love for this place, had become my people. The realization was both thrilling and terrifying.
I had never in my life had people.
"You've impressed me," Remi's voice cut through my reverie, his French accent caressing the words.
I feigned a dramatic gasp, pressing a paint-stained hand to my chest. "Are you actually complimenting me? Should I check for flying pigs?"
Remi's lips quirked in that half-smile I was growing far too fond of.
"Do not let it go to your big American head. But yes, I am impressed by the way you have tackled this project with gusto and passion. You have really brought it to life."
Warmth crept up my neck and into my cheeks, and I silently cursed my fair complexion. "Thank you," I managed, my voice softer than I intended.
"Come here," Remi said, stepping closer. "You have a little something..." He reached out, his fingertips brushing my cheek. The contact sent a jolt through me, his touch searing against my flushed skin.
"What is it?" I asked, my voice embarrassingly unsteady. My heart thundered in my chest, and I prayed he couldn't hear it.
"Just a bit of paint," he murmured, his thumb gently sweeping across my cheekbone. I fought the urge to lean into his touch, to close my eyes and savor the moment. Instead, I forced myself to meet his gaze. His eyes, the color of the ocean on a clear day, seemed to peel away my layers, seeing straight to my core. It was a kind of magic I wished I possessed.
" Merci ," I whispered, the French word feeling right on my tongue.
“Your accent is getting better,” he whispered.
The moment shattered at the sound of the back door sliding open with a soft whoosh. Remi's hand dropped away as if burned, and I instinctively stepped back. The cool evening air rushed in to fill the space between us.
Colette burst onto the terrace with a look of panic. “I’m sorry to interrupt," she said, her eyes darting between us with a knowing glint that made me want to squirm. "But there is someone here to see you, Elodie."
"To see me?" My mind raced. I barely knew anyone here beyond the family and a handful of locals. Who could possibly be looking for me?
" Oui ," Colette nodded, her brow furrowed. "He says his name is Evan?"
My stomach plummeted, and I thought it might fall right out of me and splatter on the stone. A startled laugh escaped me, born of disbelief and rising panic.
"I'm sorry, I must have misunderstood you," I said, my voice tight. "What did you say?"
But Colette's worried expression told me I had heard her perfectly. The name hung in the air between us, heavy with implications.
"Evan," I breathed, the name tasting bitter on my tongue.
Remi's confusion was palpable. "And who is Evan?" he asked, his accent thickening with concern.
I inhaled deeply, counting to four as I exhaled, trying to center myself. The scent of lavender from the nearby garden did little to calm my jangled nerves.
"My recently ex-boyfriend," I finally managed.
" Merde ," Remi muttered, the curse carrying all the weight of the situation.