Page 2 of Broken Saint

“Let—”

“It’s four months away. A lot can change in that time. Just promise me that you’ll think about it,” she urges. “You’ve been saying for ages that you want to come out and see us here. This is the perfect opportunity.”

“It is, and I do want to see you, but?—”

“Colt.”

Hearing his name shouldn’t affect me. It’s been years since I’ve seen his face in real life. But my skin prickles as if he’s just walked in the room and my stomach knots.

It’s insane. Completely and utterly ridiculous.

But it’s always been the same.

I squeeze my eyes closed, forgetting that she can see me.

“Ella.” She sighs. “You’d really miss this trip because of him?”

Yes.

“No. I’d miss this trip because I’m here living my life with my fiancé, and we can’t really affor?—”

“I already said?—”

“Letty, please.” She snaps her lips shut, her eyes darkening. I instantly feel like the worst person in the world. She’s trying to do a good thing. Organize the reunion we’ve talked about for so long. But I’m just not sure if I can do it. And not just because of Colt, but a million other things I really don’t want to identify right now. “I’ll think about it, okay? Talk to Chad.”

“He can come, too,” she offers, although it’s weak at best.

I get it, I do. They’ve met once, and this is about our old college family and reminiscing. Hell knows I wouldn’t want to go to meet up with his old college friends if the shoe was on the other foot.

“I’m sorry, but I really need to?—”

“Shit, El. I feel like I’ve just dropped all this on you and freaked you out. I thought you’d be excited.”

“I am,” I lie.

She smiles softly at me through the screen.

“We’ll talk soon, yeah?”

“Of course.”

“Come here, bud,” she says, tugging her son onto her lap. “Say bye-bye to Auntie Ella.”

My heart knots as his big, beautiful eyes stare at me. Those chubby cheeks do weird things to my insides.

“Bye, baby boy. See you soon.”

I blow him a kiss and quickly end the call before I begin getting emotional.

Blowing out a slow, calming breath, I swipe some gloss over my lips, run my fingers through my faded hair and push to my feet.

It’s about as good as it’s going to get for now.

A shriek rips from my throat when I open the bedroom door and find Chad standing right there.

He looks just as perfect as he always does. It’s how he managed to sweep me off my feet so easily when I first came back here. That and his smile and kind, encouraging words.

“Jesus,” I pant, my hand covering my racing heart. “What the hell are you doing?”