Chapter 2 - The Boy with Big Blue Eyes
Eleanor retreated toward the terrace doors, desperate for cold night air to wash the heat of humiliation from her cheeks. The spring breeze greeted her gently, fluttering the hem of her dress. She closed her eyes, letting out a long, shuddering breath she felt she had held for half a decade.
"Excuse me, Miss Eleanor?"
The small voice startled her. She opened her eyes to see Toby standing near the terrace threshold. His messy blond hair was ruffled by the wind, and his tie sat slightly askew. In his small hands, he held a linen napkin wrapped carefully around two miniature lemon tarts from the dessert table.
"Toby," Eleanor breathed, a spontaneous, genuine smile breaking through her exhaustion. She knelt down on the flagstones so she was eye-level with him, mindful not to let the delicate yellow fabric of her dress sweep the dust. "What are you doing out here in the cold?"
"You didn't eat any of the pretty food inside," Toby said solemnly, offering the napkin like a treasure chest. "Daddy says when people are mean, eating sugar helps your heart remember how to beat happy."
Tears pricked the corners of Eleanor’s eyes. While her own marriage had been childless and cold, she had met Toby months ago at the city’s children’s hospital library where she volunteered every Tuesday. Toby had taken to her instantly, calling her 'Eleanor Mommy' after she spent three hours reading Peter Pan when he had a high fever.
"Thank you, darling," she said softly, taking a small bite. "It’s wonderful."
May you like
"My daddy is standing by the door," Toby added casually, pointing a tiny thumb over his shoulder. "He said I shouldn't bother you, but I told him you looked hungry. And he never argues with logic."
Eleanor looked up. Harrison stood in the archway, backlit by the warm amber glow of the ballroom. His hands were tucked casually into his trouser pockets, his expression devoid of pity—carrying only an enduring, respectful warmth that made her pulse quicken.
