Page 193 of Broken Saint

I don’t say a word, and neither does Letty as she watches me. I don’t need to look over to know that her eyes are dark and full of concern.

“He’s okay, El. Luca said his PT session yesterday was fantastic and that Colt was stronger and more determined than they were expecting.”

“That’s great,” I whisper, the words barely audible.

“He’s just scared. All of this…it’s been a lot.”

“I know that. I am too. But do you see me running?”

“Locking stuff down and hiding from the world is how Colt handles things. You know this. It’s how it’s taken you two this long to get here.”

“He sent me away, Letty. He told me to leave and go and enjoy my life.”

She lets out a pained sigh. “I know, but he didn’t mean it.”

“Didn’t he?” I ask bitterly as I finally take a sip of my coffee.

It tastes of nothing, yet the hot liquid burns a layer off my tongue all the same.

“I don’t know where to go from here, Let,” I confess, my eyes focused on her son as he plays.

So innocent, so blissfully unaware of all the pain and heartache in the world.

If only life was as simple as he sees it.

“You need to fight, Ella. You and Colt? You’re meant to be. He thinks he can push you away because it’s easier than the risk of you leaving.”

“I won’t leave,” I argue fiercely.

“You know that. I know that, but Colt…guys…they’re a different breed. All he can see is his fear right now. His future is in question; everything he’s ever known might be about to be ripped away. He’s freaking out.”

Abandoning my half-empty coffee mug on the nightstand, I drop my head into my hands and groan.

“Yesterday was a bad day, Ella. That doesn’t mean today will be the same.”

I think about her words for a few seconds before lifting my head again.

“Will you take me to him?”

Reaching out, she takes my hand in hers and squeezes it tightly.

“Of course. I’ll even smack him upside the head for you if you want?”

“No less than he deserves, but probably not the best idea after what he’s been through.”

“Can you do something for me, though?” she asks hesitantly.

A beat passes, but I know I can’t refuse her anything.

“Sure.”

“We’re going out for breakfast first.”

“Let,” I warn, my stomach knotting.

“We’re worried about you. Let us take care of you so that you can take care of him.”

She catches my first tear when it drops.