Page 227 of Broken Saint

It’s why I’ve done all this.

It’s why I’ve pushed her away. Given her a chance of finding happiness elsewhere.

A life with me is going to be hard. The wife or girlfriend of a pro football player is challenging enough at the best of times, but add my issues into the mix and…

Fuck. It could be a fucking disaster.

Or it could be everything…

My heart already knows what I want. If I’m being honest with myself, it’s known from the very first time I met her.

But my head…that’s always been on a very different page.

I’m scared.

I’ll probably always be scared. It’s something I’m going to have to try to live with.

But should that stop me?

I could have died only a few weeks ago.

If they hadn’t restarted my heart, all of this would be over.

There wouldn’t be a chance for us.

Benny frowns as he watches me try to figure out my shit.

He’s got more to say; I can see it dancing on the tip of his tongue, but he keeps it held back.

“I love her,” I blurt. “More than anything. I want—” I swallow thickly, trying to dislodge the messy ball of emotion that’s clogging my throat. “I want to give her the world.”

Benny simply nods. “So what are you going to do about it?”

Lifting my hand, I comb my too long hair back from my brow as I try to get my thoughts straight.

“I lied to her. I turned my back on her. I don’t know what I can do.She might love me, but right now, she also hates me too.”

“Right now, Colt…” He trails off, casting his eyes across the room as he battles with what to say.

“Go on,” I encourage as a little of the fear I felt when I first discovered who was at my front door trickles through my veins.

“Right now,” he repeats, pushing to his feet and stepping closer, “she’s in the hospital, and she needs your support.”

58

COLTON

Both of my knees are bouncing as the pilot announces that we’re about to begin our descent into Texas.

Dread bubbles up like acid in my stomach as I think about what I’m about to be greeted with.

Benny hasn’t said much, but his concern is more than obvious.

I know that she’s relapsed and is in the hospital.

It’s my fault.

It’s my fucking fault, and the guilt is eating me whole.