Page 6 of Broken Saint
He glances over at me as he cuts three massive slices of cake.
“Can you cut mine in half?” I ask, horrified by the size.
“Nope. It’s Mom’s birthday; you have to eat all the cake.”
He passes a slice over, and I stare at it as if it’s poisonous.
“Everything okay, sweetie?” Mom asks, leaning around Benny to study me.
My skin prickles as I poke at the cake with my fork.
“Of course. It’s just massive. Look,” I say, holding the plate up. “It’s almost as big as my head.”
Truth is, things have been slipping recently.
With every comment that Chad manages to squeeze into conversation about my weight or how I look, all the carefully constructed walls I spent years building around my unhealthy relationship with food have begun to crack.
I’m trying really hard to let it go, to be the healthiest version of myself I know I can be. But life is taking its toll right now. And next weekend’s game and the anxiety over whether I’m going to go or not is right up there on the stress list. At this point, I don’t know what outcome is causing me more worry. Going, and having to face Colt and all the others I haven’t seen for years—well, aside from Letty and Violet—or chickening out of the whole thing and regretting it.
“We only get to celebrate three birthdays a year,” Mom says, forking the corner of her cake and stuffing it straight into her mouth. “Ohmygosh,” she moans around it.
“Come on, El-bel,” Benny encourages, using the name he used to call me as a kid. “I bet what’s on that plate will give you more pleasure than the man who avoided this little shindig could in a lifetime.”
Mom stills, but I keep my narrowed eyes on my brother. Unable to argue, I fork off a massive piece of cake and push it past my lips.
It’s all Benny needs, and the asshole throws his head back, laughing.
“You are too good for that man, El. You need to open your eyes and start looking for a higher caliber of man.”
“My fiancé,” I mumble, but my argument isn’t as fierce as it should be.
Mom watches me closely, but she doesn’t say anything.
Thankfully, Benny’s cell dings, distracting him from my life.
“One of your many admirers?” I ask.
“Might be.” The smirk on his face as he replies says I hit the nail on the head.
“Come on, hotshot. We’re on clean up duty,” I say, abandoning my half-eaten cake.
As predicted, Mom argued about us taking over the mess she’d made in the kitchen, but seeing as it was her birthday, it was already too much that she’d cooked, so we insisted, forcing her to put on her favorite cooking show and relax.
I turned Benny on to a conversation about college, and he was more than happy to chat away, allowing me to leave my boring life at the kitchen door and lose myself in stories of the dumbass things he and his teammates have been doing.
We’re almost done when my own cell dings. Although when I pick it up, it isn’t a message from Chad like I was expecting, but a notification from my food delivery app thanking me for my order.
Opening it, I find all my favorite dishes staring back at me. A smile twitches my lips as I’m met with evidence that he hasn’t forgotten about me.
I’m still staring at it when it goes off again.
Chad: Sorry I missed dinner. I’ll make it up to you x
Without replying, I put my cell to sleep feeling lighter.
“You okay to finish up here?” I ask, glancing around the room, noticing we’re almost done.
“I hope you make him grovel,” Benny grunts.