Page 241 of Broken Saint

I shake my head, unable to rip my eyes from the screen.

A baby.

Our baby.

I startle when the chair that Colt’s sitting in screeches against the floor. I look over at the same time he leans over me and steals my lips.

I have no idea when I last brushed my teeth. My mouth is gross, but that doesn’t stop him.

“I love you,” he murmurs as he kisses me.

The sonographer waits until he rests his brow against mine before she asks, “I assume you’d like a printout?”

“Yes, please,” Colt answers before I do.

The sound of her tapping keys fills the air before she hands over a strip of images.

Images of our baby.

Fuck. This is going to take some getting used to.

“Congratulations, both of you,” Jessica says before she slips from the room, quickly followed by the nurse, who promises to return with food.

“I’m pregnant,” I say, still unable to believe that any of this is happening.

Colt lowers himself to the chair again before grabbing the printout and staring down at the grainy black and white image.

“Yeah. You are.” He scrubs his hand down his face.

“Are you okay?”

He shakes his head, and my heart sinks.

“I just…I didn’t see this coming…but…”

“But?”

“But…I didn’t realize it was possible to love a little black and white blob on a page.”

“Colton,” I sob, forcing him back onto the bed with me.

“We’re going to do this, Ella. We’re going to have this little baby. I’m going to make you my wife, and we’re going to have it all.”

His promise only makes me cry harder. Everything I ever wanted is unfolding in front of me. It feels too good to be true. But also…it feels real.

Am I still mad at Colt for that stunt he pulled when he discharged himself from the hospital and cut ties with me? Yes. I’m furious, and I’m pretty sure I will be for some time.

I might have accepted everything he’s said here today, but that doesn’t mean that everything is fixed, that I’ve forgotten what he did and how much it hurt.

And while I believe that what he’s said today is true, he still has a way to go for me to fully trust that he can follow through on his words, his promises.

It’s going to take time. But, it sounds like we might just have some of that.

“Knock, knock,” Mom says, pushing the door open and poking her head inside. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” I say with a smile that I’m pretty sure is the first real one that’s appeared on my face in weeks.

“You look better, sweetie,” Mom says, looking happier than I’ve seen her in a while as she takes the free seat on the opposite side of the bed to Colt.