Page 176 of Broken Saint
“Yeah,” I muse, staring down at it as if it’s going to jump up and bite me.
“What’s wrong, El? It looks amazing,” West says before taking a massive bite of his panini.
“N-nothing,” I stutter, watching him eat as if he hasn’t got a care in the world. We both know that’s not true, but it doesn’t make any of this any easier.
Lifting my fork, I cut off a slice before lifting it to my lips.
The sponge and filling melt on my tongue. I’m sure to anyone else it would taste amazing, but I may as well be eating sand.
“So good, right?” Mom asks, trying in her own way to tell me that it’s okay to eat it. To indulge. But there isn’t anything she could say that would make me feel any better about this.
“Yeah,” I agree as enthusiastically as I can.
I force myself to eat almost half of it before I admit defeat and offer what’s left to West, who, unsurprisingly, takes it from me with very little argument.
“Do you ever stop?” Mom laughs as he finishes it off.
“A machine in this condition needs plenty of fuel, Angie,” he says, winking at Mom.
“You’re just like my Benny,” Mom says fondly.
“Yeah, they’re on the same level mentally,” I deadpan before pushing my chair out. “Excuse me, I’m going to the bathroom.”
“I’ll come with you, sweetheart,” Mom says, rushing to join me.
“It’s okay. I’m not?—”
“Shush now, Ella. West will be okay here on his own, won’t you, love?”
“It’ll be a challenge, but I think I’ve got it.” West winks.
“Dude, stop flirting with my mom,” I chastise, making him throw his head back laughing and mom’s cheeks to blaze red. “Seriously?”
I shake my head, fighting my own smile. It’s weird to laugh and joke after the past few days of nothing but tears and heartache. I guess there is only so much one person can take before they’re forced to see the joy in something.
“You don’t need to do this,” I say quietly as Mom holds the bathroom door open for me to follow her inside.
She smiles at me, trying to force her concern for my mental state away. “I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart,” she lies.
“Sure you don’t,” I mutter, locking myself inside a stall.
I stare down at the toilet, my stomach rolling.
Sucking in a deep breath, I try to tell myself that it’s okay. It was just a little bit of cake. It won’t do me any harm.
If only I could hear my own words.
Forcing myself to make the most of my visit, I do my business, and I’m drying my hands when my cell begins ringing.
I pull it free to see Kane’s name on my screen.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, rushing to answer and put it to my ear.
“What is it?” Mom asks, her eyes wide.
“His hand moved,” Kane blurts the second the call connects.
A sob erupts from my throat. “We’re coming. We’re coming,” I cry before rushing out of the door and immediately colliding with West, who’s on the other side with his own cell to his ear.