Chapter 13 #2
The corner of her mouth tipped in a half-smile, one that looked a little surprised and a lot like gratitude. “We’re fine. Braden had mashed bananas, and I made myself some toast. But thank you.”
That should’ve been my cue to leave. Instead, I lingered, caught between the urge to bolt back to the safety of my kitchen and the pull of standing right here, closer than I had any right to be.
“Toast isn’t food.” I lifted the bag in my hand. “This is food.”
She blinked at me, then rolled her eyes like I was the most impossible man alive. Maybe I was. But I didn’t miss the way her lips twitched like she was fighting a smile. “Fine. What did you bring?”
“Dinner. From the brewery.”
She stepped back to let me in. Braden squealed and kicked, so she set him down on a little play gym mat in the middle of the living room. Then she moved to the kitchen, as she pulled out plates.
I should’ve just put the food on the counter and left. That was the plan. But instead, I found myself lowering down to the floor, sitting cross-legged beside her kid.
Braden batted at the toys hanging above him, his tiny fists missing half the time. When he caught sight of me, I puffed my cheeks out, crossed my eyes, and made a ridiculous noise I didn’t even know I was capable of.
“Hello there.” I smiled full-on and was met with a full-belly giggle from him.
From the kitchen, I caught Elyna watching me.
Her hands stilled on the plates, her eyes narrowing like she didn’t quite know what to make of me.
Hell, I didn’t know what to make of me either.
I didn’t do silly or soft. But I still found myself sitting here, making an idiot of myself just to hear her boy laugh.
We sat across from each other at the little round kitchen table, the loft feeling too damn intimate for its size. I unpacked the take-out containers, setting the roasted chicken and vegetables between us, along with a loaf of warm bread the cook had tossed in at the last minute.
Elyna lowered herself into the chair opposite mine, and I damn near forgot what food was. That oversized pajama shirt of hers had slipped just enough when she sat down to remind me there wasn’t a bra underneath. The thin cotton clung, her nipples hard points straining against it.
I couldn’t look away. Didn’t even try.
She caught me once, and for the first time all day, she didn’t snap. Didn’t toss me one of her sharp comebacks. Instead, a flush crept up her neck, and she dropped her gaze to her plate. Her guard cracked, just a little, and it hit me harder than it should have.
I cleared my throat, needing a lifeline. “So. How are the accommodations? Everything working okay?” My voice came out high, giving away the heat I was feeling.
She nodded, spearing a carrot with her fork. “Yeah. It’s great. Braden’s playpen fits perfectly in the bedroom.”
The words tugged at something deep inside me. Before I could stop myself, I asked, “Why a playpen? Not a crib?”
Her fork stilled. For a second, I thought she’d shut down on me again. “That’s overstepping, huh?” I muttered, running a hand down my jaw. “Sorry.”
She shook her head slowly. “No. You just don’t know the whole story.”
“Then tell me,” I said before I could stop myself. “If you want to.”
Her lips pressed together, and I could see the battle behind her eyes. But then she exhaled, her shoulders sinking a little. “I had to leave Montreal in a rush. Riley…he owed money. To some bad people. It wasn’t safe. I packed up Braden and left before they could come knocking.”
The blood in my veins ran cold. My fists clenched under the table. “Has he been in touch?”
Her laugh was bitter, humorless. “If you can call it that. He’s texted. To bully me about leaving Braden with Colette, his mom. Says I cut him out of his own son’s life, which is insane, because he told me to leave to keep Braden safe.”
I leaned forward, heat climbing my chest. “And does he want to see him? Spend time with him?”
Her eyes flicked to mine, glassy but hard. “No, he doesn’t ask to see him. At first I thought it was because he didn’t want to lead those bad men here to Val-Du-Lys, but that wasn’t the case. He still likes to remind me how I ruined his life when I got pregnant.”
Something twisted sharp and deep inside me. Anger, sure, but more than that. The idea the kid playing on the floor quietly with his toys didn’t matter enough to his own father to even ask about him.
I looked at her across the table, her defenses down for the first time since she’d walked back into my life, and all I could feel was a fierce sense of protection for her and the baby boy.
No one should feel abandoned by their parent.
It was a feeling I knew all too well. I wasn’t going to have the sweet baby on the floor feeling that way.
Her words echoed in my head like gunfire . . .ruined his life.
I stared at her across the table, the tired slump in her shoulders, the guarded flicker in her eyes, and then down at Braden on the floor, cooing at a plastic rattle like the world was simple.
My chest burned. Anger, yes, but underneath that, a raw ache I hadn’t felt in years.
I knew what it was to grow up with a parent who checked out.
Who was too wrapped up in their own demons to see the kid right in front of them.
That wound never closed. And I wasn’t about to let that baby boy carry it too.
I leaned back in my chair, jaw tight, forcing myself not to let it spill out. Elyna didn’t need me raging at Riley on her behalf. What she needed was someone solid at her side. Someone who wouldn’t walk away.
“He doesn’t deserve to call himself a father,” I muttered low, but sharp enough that she looked up. “Braden deserves better than that.”
Her throat bobbed, like she wasn’t sure what to say. I could see the way her guard wanted to snap back up, the way she hated letting anyone see her weakness. But it was too late. I’d already seen the cracks.
I dragged a hand down my face, trying to mask the storm inside me. “Look, I’m not trying to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. But if Riley ever shows up here or even tries, I want you to tell me. You don’t have to carry this on your own.”
Elyna’s lips parted, surprise flickering there, then something else. Something softer.
And that did me in. Because I realized right then that protecting Braden wasn’t just about him. It was about her too. About making sure Elyna Chabot never had to shoulder the world alone again.
Her jaw tightened, and just like that, the softness in her eyes snapped shut. “I’ve been handling my life on my own for a long time, Phoenix. I don’t need you swooping in to save me. I’ve managed since I was seventeen, since Mom died. I’m not about to give up control now.”
I leaned back, heat buzzing in my chest, fighting the urge to argue. She was unraveling, I could see it plain as day, but damned if she was going to let me see her fall apart.
The silence stretched, sharp and heavy. Braden squealed from the floor, smacking his toy, oblivious to the war simmering at his mother’s table.
I should’ve said something. Pushed harder. Instead, I forced myself to nod, even though every bone in my body screamed to do the opposite.
“Fine,” I muttered, standing and collecting the take-out containers. My voice came out rougher than I intended. “You do things your way.”
But as I walked out of that loft and into the night, one thought burned like fire in my chest. . . She might not want saving, but hell if I could stop myself from wanting to try.