Page 5 of Broken Saint
Honestly? No.
There may be many things I regret, but experiencing that with him wasn’t one of them. He gave me faith that that kind of burning chemistry and passion does exist outside of the movies and novels. I just wish it could have lasted longer…forever.
It wasn’t meant to be.
This is where you need to be.
I’m hardly surprised when a soft knock fills the room only minutes later.
“Ella, sweetie. Are you okay?” Mom calls softly.
Sucking in a deep breath, I roll my shoulders back and hold my head high.
For years, I’ve managed to put all of this in the past where it belongs. Even watching the odd Saints game when Chad has been out hasn’t sent me back there quite as fiercely as right now.
Plastering on a smile, I pull the door open.
“Yeah, I’m good. Is dinner ready?”
She studies me, really studies me, but she keeps her mouth shut about it. For now, at least.
“It is. Let’s go and eat. Everything feels better with a full belly.”
Together we make our way back to the dining room, where Benny analyzes my every move.
Mom’s home cooking fills the table, the scent of the slow-cooked brisket making my stomach growl loudly.
In the past, our birthdays would have come with a visit to one of our favorite restaurants. But after Dad died and money became an issue, we were forced to change it up.
Benny’s birthday came first and he insisted that he was craving Mom’s home cooking and wanted it to just be family.
He knew what he was doing. My little brother might be an idiot at times, but he’s not stupid.
The three of us dish up and fall into easy conversation, ignoring the two elephants in the room: my absent fiancé, and the activities Benny really partakes in at college.
Being with them, being a family again, makes my heart swell until it’s almost bursting. But it’s impossible to ignore the missing pieces. And not having Dad here with us is only one of them.
We have the best evening with incredible food and amazing company, and just like every time I walk into this house, I relax.
Okay, so my troubles might not be far away, but it’s easy to push them a little further aside when I’m with my family.
“El, kill the lights,” Benny demands before he moves toward us with a cake balancing on one hand, the other trying to protect the flames.
Reaching over, I do as I’m told before we begin our rendition of Happy Birthday to Mom.
She grins at both of us, her cheeks heating with the attention before she blows the candles out.
“I told ya’ll not to go to any effort.”
“Mom.” Benny sighs, producing a knife from the back pocket of his pants. Gross. “It’s a cake. You need to chill.”
“I hate you spending money on me,” she argues.
“You’re going to need to get used to it. When I’m a hotshot first-draft pick, I’m going to buy you everything you’ve ever wished for,” he promises.
Usually, I’d want to tell him to stop being such a big-headed jerk. But also, I’ve seen him play many, many times. He really is that good.
“I don’t want your money, Benny,” she continues to argue.