Page 169 of Broken Saint

The image of him in an apron baking fills my mind and I start laughing.

I think it’s the fear and exhaustion that’s got my body in a tight hold, but I completely fucking lose it.

By the time West comes back, I’ve got fresh tears running down my cheeks and I’m hiccupping as I try to decide if I want to laugh or cry.

“Ella?” he asks, moving closer to me with a deep frown marring his brow.

Hiccup. “I’m okay. Just…delusional, I think.”

“You should try and get some sleep. In fact—” He disappears again before he has a chance to finish that sentence, leaving me wondering what idea just popped into his head.

He’s only gone a minute or two, and when he returns, he announces that it’s sorted.

“What is?” I ask, confused.

“Just wait. In the meantime, I got you these.”

He hands over an entire sharing size bag of mini Hershey bars, knowing that they’re my ultimate weakness.

“I think you deserve one or fifty right now.”

Unable to deny myself, I rip the top off and reach for a little chocolate as the door opens and Colt’s nurse walks in, tugging a cot bed behind him.

“What’s that?—”

“For you, El,” West tells me. “You need to rest, and I know better than to try and convince you to leave. So…Oh no,” he says when he sees my threatening waterworks. “It’s not meant to make you cry.”

Blinking rapidly, I try to force them back before I lose control again. How I’m still able to cry after all the hours and liters I must have lost this evening is beyond me.

“You’re one of a kind, Weston Rogers,” I tell him before unwrapping a chocolate and pushing it into my mouth.

I groan the second it begins to melt on my tongue. It’s been a long time since I’ve allowed myself a taste. It is so good.

“I’ll go and grab you a pillow and a blanket. I can’t promise it’ll be the most comfortable bed you’ve ever slept in, but it’s the best I can do.”

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

After allowing myself no more than four chocolates, I pull the bed as close to Colt as I can and curl up on my side.

I don’t close my eyes for the longest time, despite my body craving for me to do so.

“Are you really okay in that chair?” I ask, feeling guilty.

“Sleep, El. I promise to wake you if anything happens. He needs you. I need you.”

Unable to fight it any longer, I let myself drift off.

When I next come to, it’s to the sound of someone shuffling around me and hushed voices.

It takes me a second to remember where I am, but the second I do, it hits me with the force of an eighteen-wheeler.

I listen to the sounds of the doctor or nurse reading stats out loud and I pray they’re good.

We need some positive news. I’m not sure I can get through another day without knowing he’s going to be okay, or at least moving in the right direction.

They finish their checks before telling Colt they’ll be back again in an hour before quietly leaving the room.

I don’t open my eyes until I’m confident everyone has left. I don’t want their looks of empathy or kind words.