I needed answers.
I needed to talk to Saint.
And he should be here any minute.
He texted me close to an hour ago saying he was finishing up work and was on his way back, and asked what I wanted for dinner.
Work.
How many times had he said he was working when it was really for this?
Whatever this actually was?
Did my brother know?
Was he part of it?
With all these questions swirling in my head, I hadn’t replied to Saint’s text. Nor did I have an appetite.
As if summoned by my thoughts, the hotel door clicked open, and Saint’s footsteps filled the room. So did the aroma that normally would’ve made my stomach growl to claim.
Now, it barely cared.
Saint brought me food.
I squeezed my eyes shut as he quietly shut the door, leaving the light off as he made his way across the room. He was quiet as he set the food down, his footsteps soft as they padded closer to me.
The bed dipped under his weight as he pulled back the covers and kissed my temple.
“Hey,” he said softly against my skin.
Here we go.
Rolling over, I gave him a weak smile. “Hi.”
“You never texted me back. Got worried.” Saint brushed the hair behind my ear. He looked so earnest as he peered at me, concern splashed across his features.
God, how could he look so normal after what I just saw? So unaffected?
This was the man I knew. Not the one in the robe.
Only, which one was real? Which one was the real Saint?
“Sorry. I wasn’t feeling well. I just wanted to lie down.”
He cupped my cheek. “How are you feeling now?”
I shrugged, pulling away from his touch.
“You brought food?” I asked. Before he could question why I pulled away, I sat up against the headboard.
“Thought we could have dinner in tonight.”
I didn’t say anything as he moved off the bed to fetch the takeout containers. Instead, I wondered if he could see the hesitancy in my eyes. Hear the violent thrashing of my heart.
If he did, he didn’t let on as he placed my favorite food dishes in front of me. Gnocchi, tempura shrimp, fried chicken, caramel cheesecake.
He must’ve gone all over the city for this.