Page 101 of Try Line Hearts
Out loud.
Unmasked.
Unreturnable.
His chest seized like his body had finally caught up to his heart.
For a beat, Evelyn said nothing.
Then she laughed—soft, warm, entirely without cruelty.
“HowveryFrench,” she said gently. “The Parisians would wholeheartedly approve.C’est un drame.”
That shouldn’t have broken him.
It did.
Eli laughed too, the sound quiet and unsteady, already dissolving into something else. He dragged his good hand down his face, thumb catching at the corner of his eye like he could stop what was coming if he moved fast enough.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “That’s—ridiculous.”
“Human,” Evelyn corrected softly.
He shook his head, staring out at the river like it might offer him a way to put the word back where it had been before.
But it was too late.
The world had shifted around it.
He turned to her again, eyes glassy, voice stripped down to something bare and honest.
“Have you ever,” he asked quietly, “had a hurt inside you so beautiful and painful it makes the colors of everything else brighter?”
The question wasn’t rhetorical.
It was a plea.
Evelyn didn’t answer right away.
When she did, her voice was certain. Grounded.
“Yes.”
She stepped closer—not invading, not crowding. Just close enough to share the cold between them.
Her fingers closed around his damaged hand.
Gentle.
Anchoring.
No pity anywhere in it.
“I won’t pretend it’s easy,” she said. “Fame. People deciding who you’re allowed to be. People profiting off the distance between who you are and who you’re seen as.”
Her thumb brushed the edge of healing bruises, careful not to press.
“But you both deserve happiness,” she said quietly. “Truly.”
