Chapter 12
Elyna
I pushed the door open with my hip, balancing Braden’s toy box in my arms, and nearly stopped short.
“Holy cow,” I breathed.
Luc whistled low behind me, dragging the suitcase inside. “This place is nicer than the hockey house back in Riverside.”
It wasn’t what I expected at all. The loft opened into a wide, airy space with tall windows letting in beams of late afternoon light.
A brand-new futon sat against the far wall, clean lines and modern fabric making it look like it belonged in a magazine.
The creamy cabinets in the full kitchen gleamed, paired with smooth wood counters that gave the whole space a sleek, polished feel.
“This is…beautiful,” I said, setting the box down slowly, like I didn’t want to disturb the perfection.
Luc grinned, testing the futon by giving it a bounce with his hand before getting up to check out the main bedroom. He flung the door wide. “Holy shit, Elyna, there is a new king-size bed. You and Braden are going to sleep like royalty.”
I stepped into the bedroom after him, my heart skipping. The bed looked ridiculously comfortable, the kind you sink into and forget the rest of the world. For the first time in days, I let myself imagine actually resting and allowing myself to feel safe.
And then it hit me, all the clean lines, the thoughtful details, the way everything was simple but carefully chosen.
It reminded me of Phoenix. Strong, restrained, yet warm beneath the surface.
I thought back to all the girls who wanted him in high school.
He was a catch. He didn’t drink much, he was responsible, on the basketball team.
He was always hot. He had his head on right, even after everything he had been through with his mom leaving.
It was me who didn’t behave well, and here he was giving me this beautiful place for free.
I felt like I didn’t deserve his kindness and it was eating away at me, but I’d have to think of a way of thanking Phoenix for his generosity another day.
Right now, I felt overwhelmed by the beauty of this place. A place I could call home for the next little while. I wouldn’t have to sleep with a baseball bat under my pillow anymore. “This doesn’t feel real,” I murmured.
Luc gave me a proud smile, like he’d personally designed the place. “It’s a good fit for you.”
My gaze drifted back toward the kitchen. That’s when I noticed the wildflowers in the mason jar, standing in the center of the table, their yellow-and-white petals fresh and delicate.
“Oh. Izzy must’ve brought those over,” I said quickly, though my voice sounded thinner than I intended.
Luc frowned. “Izzy hasn’t been here.”
The flutter inside me turned sharp, and I looked away.
I forced a smile and smoothed my hands over my shorts.
“Whoever it was, they’re sweet.” Deep down I had a feeling it was Phoenix, but why would he leave me flowers?
I couldn’t allow my mind to go there. He was giving my son and me a safe place to stay. That’s all that mattered right now.
Luc didn’t mention it was probably Phoenix, which made the most sense because this was a part of his home.
Though it looked like my brother was debating on calling me out.
But before that could happen his face shifted, a weight settling over his features.
“Elyna…there’s something we need to talk about. ”
Luc’s shift in tone pulled me out of my thoughts.
“What is it?” I asked.
He rubbed the back of his neck, then leaned against the counter, shoulders tense. “You’re finally settled here, and I hate to bring this up right now, but you deserve to know what’s going on with Papa.”
My stomach tightened.
He nodded slowly. “Pierre Thorne told me some things. . .”
“You’re making me nervous, Luc. Spit it out,” I insisted.
The air in the loft suddenly felt very heavy.
“I’m trying.” His voice gentled, but there was a steel edge beneath it. “Just remember, El, you’re a good woman. Mama’s and Papa’s choices don’t define you.”
My throat worked around a lump. “That doesn’t sound promising.”
He hesitated, then pushed on. “Papa found a journal. It belonged to Mom.”
The words landed heavy, pressing down on my chest. “A journal?”
“Yeah.” He exhaled, watching me closely. “Helen convinced mom to continue her affair with Kyle Jansen.”
The room tilted. I blinked hard, shaking my head. “No. No, Mom wasn’t having an affair with him. They worked together; everyone knew that.”
“The journal suggests more,” Luc said carefully. “Since Dad found out, he hasn’t been the same.”
I dug my fingers through my hair, my skin prickling as if the floor had been ripped out from under me. “Wait. Are you saying…Braden—?”
He nodded once, grim. “Riley’s dad is Kyle Jansen.”
My breath caught. Holy hell. Everything fell into place, the way Papa looked at Braden, the bitterness that had sharpened into something dangerous suddenly all made sense.
Luc’s voice softened, almost apologetic. “Papa doesn’t like having Kyle’s grandson in his home. It doesn’t excuse his behavior, but…it’s the truth.”
I pressed my palms to my eyes, my body trembling. “I knew Papa had a drinking problem back then. I knew he wasn’t kind to Mom. But this…” My voice cracked.
“Come sit down,” he said. We took a seat at the round kitchen table that had chairs for four people. I stared at the wildflowers but it was like I saw right through them.
Luc sat beside me, his hand finding my shoulder, grounding me. “It breaks my heart too. Mr. Thorne said Mom and Kyle’s deaths shook the whole town, and finding out they were together explains a lot. Maybe even why Helen ran.”
I lifted my head, meeting his steady gaze. “And now?”
“Now Papa’s spiraling. Pierre told me he burned the journal. The fire out back that got out of control? That was him.”
I swallowed hard, remembering the charred patch of earth I’d passed by, never questioning it.
Luc leaned in closer, his voice fierce but tender. “I want you to know this so you can understand what we’re dealing with. You and Braden aren’t safe in that house. That’s why you need to stay here. It’s why I was being pushy about it.”
Fresh flowers on the table, creamy cabinets glowing in the light, a king-size bed waiting in the next room, all of it suddenly felt fragile, like a bubble ready to burst.
“This is a lot to process,” I say.
“I know but we aren’t our parents, Elyna. We can make ourselves a different life,” my brother said sounding so na?ve, young, and hopeful.
“You can make yourself a different life. You aren’t Papa, and I see how much you love Izzy and she loves you,” I said to him.
“You can make yourself a life too. You don’t have to be alone with Braden,” he said.
A small hysterical laugh escaped me. “You’re young, you don’t understand how the world works. No one is going to want an almost twenty-eight-old woman without a degree and a child to care for.”
Luc raised his brows and reached out to the wildflowers on the table and touched their soft petals.
Then he looked me straight in the eyes. He didn’t have to say a word.
The message was clear. He thought Phoenix Thorne wanted me.
He didn’t understand Phoenix’s kindness was laced with pity, not lust.
Heat rose up my neck. I tore my gaze away, busying myself with folding the throw blanket over the arm of the futon. “Don’t look at me like that, Luc. You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” His voice was quiet, but steady. “I saw the way he looked at you in the brewery.”
“That was nothing.” My hands continued to fuss with the blanket, smoothing out wrinkles that didn’t exist. “Phoenix is polite to everyone.”
Luc gave a short laugh, not buying it for a second. “Polite doesn’t make fresh flowers appear out of nowhere. Polite doesn’t keep a woman in his line of sight like she’s the only person in the room.”
My chest tightened. I wanted to argue and shut him down before he could plant dangerous hope where there shouldn’t be any. But the image of Phoenix’s eyes on me hot and lingering, even when he pretended otherwise, rose unbidden in my mind. I hated that part of me wanted to believe Luc.
I pressed my lips together. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you’re right, it wouldn’t change anything. Phoenix is Phoenix. He isn’t for me.”
Luc leaned against the counter, arms crossed, studying me with the kind of stubborn patience only brothers could manage. “Maybe you should let Phoenix decide that, instead of assuming for him.”
I shook my head, desperate to push the conversation elsewhere. “We’re not talking about this anymore. You should go find Izzy. I need to unpack my clothes and set everything up for Braden.”
He sighed but didn’t argue, which told me he knew I was at my breaking point. Still, as he moved toward the door, his fingers brushed the wildflowers once more, like he was leaving me with a reminder.
When the loft finally went quiet, I dropped into one of the sleek new chairs and buried my face in my hands.
Phoenix Thorne was not for me.
So why did it feel like he was everywhere?