Page 164 of Broken Saint

My stomach drops, a sense of foreboding falling over me.

“Colton doesn’t do girlfriends,” he states like it’s a full-blown conclusion that Colt will forever remain single. “You need to leave.”

“What?” I gasp while West argues, “Dad, no. This isElla,” he emphasizes, as if it’ll mean something to Dalton.

“I don’t care who it is. Colton wouldn’t want some damsel in distress sitting by his bedside while he’s in this state.”

Disbelief settles as Dalton moves closer. Grief, anger, and hopelessness, all collide within me.

“B-but I love him,” I blurt like an idiot. It’s the first thing I’ve said in a long time, and I really wish I could take it back.

Dalton’s expression turns even more furious.

“I suggest you run along.”

My hand lifts to cover my heart, as if that simple act alone will stop it from racing so hard I’m sure it’s going to explode inside my chest.

“No, Dad. All of that is bullshit. Colt has been in love with Ella for years. You know that,” West argues.

He does?

But any hope I have is dashed when his eyes come back to me.

“Colton doesn’t give his heart away.” He takes a step closer as if he’s ready to claim the chair that I’ve made mine since stepping into this room. “You can leave now. Colton has everything he needs.”

I want to crumble. To break down right in front of him. But something tells me that it won’t get me very far with the cold, hard man before me.

I study him, and he glares at me impatiently. I hate to admit it, but I see a lot of Colt staring back at me. His inability to trust, to give himself to another.

Staring at Dalton Rogers really does help me understand Colt in a whole new light.

“Ella is what he needs, Dad.” West continues to try to fight for me, but it’s not going to help. His father is an unwavering force.

“It’s okay, West,” I force out, attempting to appear strong. “You three should be together right now. I’m going to go and see the others. If anything ch-chang?—”

“Ella, you don’t—” He moves toward me, and I hold up my hand, stopping him from saying or doing more so I don’t break down.

“Be with him. Be strong for him.”

Before he has a chance to comment, I flee from the room, Dalton Rogers’ stare burning through me as I do.

The second the door closes behind me, a loud sob erupts and I stumble forward into the wall.

“Oh my goodness,” someone gasps, but I’m too lost to the pain of what’s just happened to really hear it.

A shadow falls over me before a warm pair of hands grip my upper arms.

I look up through watery eyes to find a blurry, unfamiliar face.

“Everything is going to be okay, Ella,” she says, proving that she knows exactly who I am.

I nod, although I don’t feel it. Right now, it feels like my life is falling apart all over again.

How is this fair?

How?

Just when I’m pulling myself out of the last disaster and find some happiness, it’s ripped away from me in such a public and agonizing way.