Page 246 of Broken Saint

Family.

Every inch of this place screams it. And not just any family—a really fucking happy one.

There isn’t a surface that doesn’t have a photograph of them on it. There’s kids’ artwork from all stages of their lives adorning the walls. Certificates, trophies of all kinds. The sight of all of it makes my eyes burn.

Sure, Dad used to display our trophies. But they were in a cabinet and there for no other reason but to show off whenanyone visited the house. They weren’t placed with pride like I know every single thing here has been.

We come to a stop in the kitchen and I suck in a shaky breath, forcing Ella to look up at me.

“Are you…are you okay?” she whispers, her eyes bouncing between mine.

I swallow thickly before pulling her into my arms and pressing a kiss on her forehead.

“Yeah, Bombshell. I’m good.”

“B-but?—”

“I’ve got you in my arms. I promise you, everything is perfect right now.”

She wants to say more, but when I look down and find her eyes, she swallows the questions. For now.

“Are you both hungry?” Angie asks, suddenly appearing behind us. “I made cookies and?—”

“Starving,” I say, forcing a smile onto my face.

“Take a seat, both of you, then I’ll get out of your hair so you can settle in. All the sheets are washed and?—”

“Thank you, Mom. We really appreciate it.”

A plate full of mouthwatering cookies appears before us along with two glasses of milk before Angie disappears from the room.

I shake my head, a wide smile playing on my lips as I look between our snack and my girl.

“She made us cookies and milk,” I say in disbelief. “I don’t think anyone has ever made me cookies and milk.” The confession hurts. If I was sitting in front of anyone but Ella, I probably wouldn’t say anything. But it’s time to follow through on my promises and give her access to every part of me.

The smile she gives me is full of understanding and warmth.

“Doesn’t matter if you have; no one makes cookies and milk like Angie Myers,” she says before lifting a cookie from the plateand taking a bite. “They’re warm, too,” she mumbles around the mouthful.

Reaching out, I don’t take another from the plate. Instead, I steal hers, making her laugh float through the air as I stuff the entire thing in my mouth.

“Mmm,” I moan, lifting my glass of milk to wash it down. “You’re right. I’ve never had cookies and milk like this.”

63

ELLA

With only a few crumbs and two empty glasses left, I push my chair back and stand.

My muscles are weak and the room around me spins a little, but it’s getting better.

Mornings are the worst, but then I guess that’s to be expected. I just have to hope that the doctor is right, and that it’ll lessen now that I’m taking better care of myself.

I’m already stronger. And I know that if I focus, in only a few more days, I might feel more like myself than I have in a while.

“Where are you going?” Colt asks as I move toward the door.

“I want to shower and change. I smell like the hospital.”