Page 99 of Try Line Hearts
The hotel had a patio tucked along the river side, half shielded from the street by tall planters and glass panels meant to suggest privacy without ever fully delivering it. It was designed for discretion: tasteful little clusters of people who wanted to be seen relaxing, not seenescaping.
Eli pushed the door open and stepped into air that smelled like rain and cold stone.
The Seine slid past below, dark and slow, carrying the city’s reflection in broken streaks of gold. Beyond the rooftops, framed between buildings at an angle that felt almost accidental, the Eiffel Tower cut into the sky—lit already, pale against the damp slateevening. Not the whole thing. Just enough to remind you where you were.
Paris.
City of light. City of romance.
Of course.
He rested his forearms on the railing and let his head drop forward, breath coming slow and deliberate through his nose.
In.
Hold.
Out.
Again.
His knuckles—still sore in that deep, lingering way—throbbed dully, like his body remembered what it felt like to need somewhere for the feeling to go. He flexed his fingers once and hissed quietly, then stilled.
He stayed there long enough for the tightness in his chest to loosen by a fraction.
Then the door behind him opened.
Softly.
Carefully.
He didn’t turn right away.
He smelled cigarette smoke first—not heavy, not clinging. Just a clean thread of it, familiar and oddly grounding.
When he finally glanced over his shoulder, Evelyn Cross stood near one of the planters, half turned toward the river.
“Hey,” she said.
Eli’s brain offered him fifteen possible responses. None of them were workable.
“Sorry,” he managed. “Didn’t realize anyone was—”
“It’s a patio,” she said mildly, a corner of her mouth lifting. “Plenty of room for everyone.”
He let out a short, humorless huff despite himself.
Back straightened, already pivoting around toward the door. “Right. I’ll leave you to it.”
He was halfway there when her voice reached him again—low, unhurried, pitched so no one else could mistake it for anything meant for them.
“I have no intention of taking him from you, you know.”
Eli stopped.
Not a pause. Not hesitation.
Stopped.
