Page 19 of Broken Saint
He eventually gets bored and races off after a car he spots under the table before Letty sweeps him up and sits him in his chair.
“Like father, like son,” I joke as Kyan wolfs down his food like I’ve seen starving football players do time and time again.Thankfully, when Letty speaks, she doesn’t pick up on my reference to football players. Although, I’m not stupid. I know it’s coming. And I’m yet to make a decision about how the rest of this day is going to go.
“I’ve certainly never had any issues feeding him. This kid literally eats anything.”
Once Kyan’s belly is bursting at the seams, Letty makes us a late lunch before suggesting we head out to the deck. It’s a beautiful afternoon, and the second I step outside, I suck in a deep breath of fresh mountain air, feeling grounded for the first time in…a long time.
Seattle might be a long way from my home, but it feels much more welcoming and comfortable than Texas has been in years. The last place I remember feeling like I belonged was Maddison County. I might not have been with my blood family, but the one we made ourselves there was the real deal. Ride or die.
I just wish it didn’t have to end.
Letty joins me just in time to hear my pained sigh.
Kyan darts past me toward a box that I quickly discover is full of building blocks on the enclosed deck, and he dives in, leaving me in an ominous silence with my friend.
She doesn’t dive straight in, allowing me a few minutes to find my thoughts as we eat, but I know the questions are coming. They’re already pressing down on my shoulders, and she hasn’t spilled a word yet.
She finally sets her empty plate aside and looks up at me. I still, waiting for the blow.
“Did you ever find that yoga class?”
All the air rushes from my lungs. That was not the most obvious of all the things I thought she would ask me.
“Umm…”
“Ella,” she chastises, not needing to hear more.
“I know. I know. I meant to, I just…”
She watches me closely, reading Christ knows what on my face.
“When was the last time you practiced?”
I shrug. “It’s been a while,” I confess.
“It used to help you so much. I really think you’d benefit from?—”
“I can’t do it like I used to. My body…it’s?—”
“Out of practice?” she answers before I get a chance to.
“Something like that,” I mutter.
“We should do some. It’ll be like the good old days. Did you bring any workout clothes?”
“Yes, they were the first thing I packed before I fled,” I deadpan.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Watch him; I think I might have just the thing.”
I cringe the second she stands. There’s no way anything she owns will go anywhere near fitting me these days. She’s…as toned and as sculpted as ever. You’d never know she’d had a baby a year ago if she weren’t holding Kyan, and I’m…yeah…a mess.
“It’s okay, I have something I can pull together,” I whisper quietly.
“Ella?” she questions, but I keep my eyes locked on my plate.
“Have you finished? I’ll take these inside and see what I can find.”
Despite being terrified of how my body will react to yoga these days, I know I’m safe with Letty. Fear has been the biggest reason for not signing myself up to a class like I promised her I would. Doing it alone at home was too easy to push aside in favor of something else, like curling up on the couch and watching old sitcoms on the TV. But paying for a class is more likely to get me into action. Only, the fear of the other women watching me, judging me, was enough to have me retreat into my shell.