Page 238 of Broken Saint

I blink.

Once.

Twice.

“Ella?” she asks softly. “Did you hear what I said?”

Shaking my head, I rest it back against the pillow and close my eyes.

No. I didn’t hear what she said. Because it can’t possibly be true.

They’ve made a mistake.

If I am, that would mean I haven’t been?—

I retch, acid burning up my throat. Someone is thankfully fast enough and a bowl appears beneath me before I vomit what little is in my stomach.

“Ella,” Colt breathes.

He’s there not a second later, taking the bowl from the nurse and holding my hair back.

It’s not a position I ever thought I’d see Colton Rogers in, but as he murmurs words of comfort and support, I can’t help but wonder if it’s the most natural I’ve ever seen him.

I retch a few more times, but when it becomes obvious that there is nothing more to bring up, Colt passes the bowl off to the nurse and then climbs onto the bed with me.

He doesn’t ask permission; nor do the nurses chastise him for taking liberties.

Wrapping his arm around me, he gathers me up against his huge, warm body and holds me tight, protecting me, supporting me, holding me together.

“Baby,” he whispers, his lips pressing against the top of my head. “Did you know?”

I shake my head, unable to speak.

“She didn’t know,” he confirms to the nurse.

“Okay. Well, your blood work suggests that you’re approximately eight weeks along.”

Colt’s chest stops moving beneath my head for a few seconds, but his heart continues to thump steadily.

Closing my eyes, I focus on the sound of it. It betrayed him on the field that day. But it didn’t give up on him.

And maybe despite everything, it didn’t give up on us, either.

“We’ll need to organize an ultrasound to see what’s happening in there.”

Suddenly, Colt sucks in a deep breath.

“How will Ella’s illness affect this?” he asks.

It’s such a sensible question that it throws me for a loop.

“The scan will be able to tell us more, but her hormone levels are strong, and that’s a good sign.”

“Could it have been the…” He swallows thickly. I feel it beneath my cheek as he prepares his words. “Could it have been the pregnancy that caused her to pass out more than her illness?”

“Possibly. Ella’s body is going through a lot of changes, and without the right fuel, it’s going to make it even more challenging.”

I squeeze my eyes closed as more tears threaten.