His Little Flower (Felix and Flora) novel Chapter 73

Chapter 73 

morphing into hesitant trust, the flicker of familiarity rekindled into a flame, slowly. I spoke of the mansion, a looming monument to his family’s wealth, a stark contrast to my cramped apartment, yet somehow, now my new home. I told him about how he found me, two nights ago. Bruised and beaten up, and whisked me away. My knight in a black suit. 

But I didn’t tell Tommy about the darker things. I couldn’t tell anyone. 

“He offered me… everything. I confessed, my voice catching. “Room and board, a… chance to start over.” 

“And?” Tommy prompted, his silence a warm blanket around my vulnerability. 

“And I took it,” I whispered, shame tinged with a sliver of relief. “Because… maybe it’s time.” 

Tommy, bless his kind soul, didn’t judge. He didn’t question my motives, didn’t lecture me about choices. He simply nodded, a gentle understanding filling his gaze. 

“You always said he had a hero complex,” he remarked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Seems like he finally found his damsel in distress.” 

I rolled my eyes, a laugh bubbling up despite the lump in my throat. “Damsel? Hardly. More like a walking disaster zone.” But I had always been his damsel in distress, in a way. 

“Your disaster zone,” he countered, winked. “And hey, maybe that’s exactly what he needs. What you both need.” 

His words sparked a flicker of hope, a fragile flame in the wind. Maybe he was right. Maybe I wasn’t just a burden, an unwelcome ghost from the past. Maybe, just maybe, we could be… something more. 

But the past wasn’t done with me yet. The shadows still lurked, waiting to pounce at the first misstep. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the next hurdle. 

“There’s something else. Tommy,” I said, my voice unsteady. “Something I haven’t told anyone.” 

He leaned closer, his gaze unwavering Anything, Flora. You know that.” 

And so, I did. I unraveled the knot of secrets, whispered the truth about our shared history, a truth that stretched back even further than our childhood misadventures. It was a story of family ties and hidden truths, of a bond forged in shared secrets and unspoken promises. I told him everything except the murder of my mother. But I told him how I suspected my father of being involved in something very sinister, and how I was still afraid of him. 

By the time I finished, my throat was raw, my heart a reflection of woven anxieties and fragile hopes. Tommy, to his credit, listened without flinching He absorbed the story, pleced together the fragments, and when I finally stopped, his gaze was filled with a mix of emotions 1 couldn’t decipher. 

“Wow,” he breathed, the word echoing in the quiet cafe. “That… that’s a lot to process.” 

“I know,” I whispered, feeling the weight of his unspoken thoughts. 

He met my gaze, his eyes searching mine. “Flora,” he began, his voice hesitant, “are you sure… about all of this?” 

I nodded. “Just, please don’t tell anyone, Tommy. Not a soul” 

“No, of course I won’t.” 

“Are you safe at his house?” 

“Honestly?” I confessed, swirling the remnants of my latte, “I don’t know, Tommy: Some days, I wake up in that room, sunlight painting squares on the whitewashed walls, and I feel… sase. Like maybe, just maybe, I can finally build something here. And with Felix, I know he will protect me. From anything. No matter what happens between us. But I feel guilty for burdening him with myself.” 

“If he loves you, you’re not a burden. 

He loved me once, I thought. Not anymore. 

Tommy reached across the table, his hand covering mine. The famillar gesture, a silent reminder of our unwavering friendship, grounded me amidht the swirling maelstrom of emotions. 

“You’re not alone, Flora,” he said, his voice firm but laced with empathy. “You can’t keep running from the past forever. But facing it… that’s your choice. And yours alone.” 

Opter 73 

words were a stark mirror, reflecting the truth I already knew. Running wouldn’t erase the shadows, only prolong their chilling dance. But facing em, confronting the darkness within, held the promise of finally stepping into the light. 

know,” I sighed, the weight of that knowledge settling in my bones. “It’s just… terrifying, Tommy. What if…” 

-cut me off with a gentle squeeze of my hand. “What if it makes you stronger, Flora? What if Felix is exactly what you need right now?” He cocked his ad to the side, giving me a reassuring smile, “And you keep thinking he doesn’t want you anymore. But what if he does? Be a little positive, Flo.” 

8 words, sharp yet gentle, pierced through my fear, igniting a tiny spark of defiance. Was he right? 

There’s still so much I don’t know,” I acknowledged, the fear still lingering but no longer crippling. About Felix, about myself, about this… this strange tuation we’re in.” 

Ommy chuckled, a low rumble that echoed my own anxieties and newfound determination. “That’s life, Flora,” he said, squeezing my hand one last me. “Life has brought you two together again. You have to give it a chance.” 

nd as we stepped out of the café, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the cobblestone streets, I knew that for the 

e first time in five years, I asn’t alone. I had my memories, my scars, and most importantly, a friend who held a mirror to my soul and a flashlight for the shadows.