Page 42 of Saving Saul

I speak first, my voice sharp and trembling. “What the hell just happened?

He sighs, his grip steady and unwavering. “That was Celine Varennes. She’s a spiritualist—a well-known name in this neighborhood.” His voice carries a weight that matches the tension hanging between us.

A spiritualist, just like my Grandmère and my people before her. I should have recognized her aura.

I shake my head. “But, Saul… she looked just like my mother. My mother on her wedding day. I have the picture—I can proveit to you.” My words tumble out, shaky but insistent, as if saying them aloud might make sense of the impossible.

Saul’s expression softens, his dark eyes brimming with compassion. He tilts his head slightly, his voice gentle but firm. “I believe you, love.”

His hands slip up to cradle my face, and he leans in to kiss the top of my head. The warmth of it sends a ripple through me, softening the edges of my anger and confusion, even if only for a moment.

“But to me,” he continues, his voice low, intimate, “she’s just Celine Varennes. I’ve seen her at the Hall plenty of times—at least once a week, offering to tell fortunes. She’s never spoken to me before tonight.” He pauses, his thumb brushing lightly against my temple, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath hitch.

“But tonight…” His voice softens even more, carrying the kind of weight that settles deep in your chest. “Tonight, I had you.”

I had you.Those words linger between us, pulling at something fragile and guarded inside me. My heart flutters against my will, even as my mind protests, reminding me not to fall too easily into the warmth of his words.

I’m here for answers. Nothing else.

I pull my hands back, crossing my arms tightly over my inadequately clothed breasts. Anger flares up, hot and sharp. “You don’thaveme, Saul.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his thick hair, frustration rippling through his posture. “Tessa, I know this is hard to believe, but I’m the same man you fell in love with inside the hub.”

His words hit me like a slap. My breath catches the familiarity of his voice slamming against the walls I’ve been building since that day. But it can’t be true. My mind races withquestions that refuse to align—how is he here? Why is he here? What about Patrick? Is he still free?

And the biggest question is:How can I believe a man with so many secrets?

“You’re lying,” I whisper, the words trembling on my lips like they might shatter if spoken too loudly. “I don’t know who you are anymore. Maybe I never did.”

He shakes his head, his voice calm but insistent. “I’m not lying, Tessa. Deep down, youknowI’m not.”

He steps closer, his voice dropping to a soft, intimate whisper. “You know me. Youknowme. I love you.”

The words slice through me, cutting deeper than any blade could. Anger surges in my chest, hot and overwhelming. How dare he invoke love? Howdarehe use the one thing I’ve craved—the one thing he abandoned me with.

“No!” I scream, my voice breaking as I slam my fists against his chest. “You’re lying! Lying, lying, lying!”

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t step back. His hands shoot up to catch mine, holding them firmly but gently, his eyes searching mine with sorrow and resolve.

“Tessa,” he says, his voice steady, though his breathing is ragged. “I’m not lying. You know me. Youknowmy heart.”

His words don’t soothe me; they ignite something wild and chaotic. My hands tremble in his grip, my body shaking with anger, confusion, and a deep ache I can’t seem to push away.

“You left me,” I hiss, my voice thick with the pain I’ve buried for so long. “You left me alone, Saul. And now you think you can show up, say you love me, and everything will be fine?”

His eyes shimmer, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t want to leave you. I had to. But I came back for you, Tessa. I’llalwayscome back for you.”

I shake my head, tears burning behind my eyes. “No. You don’t get to say that. Not after what you did. Not after you broke me.”

The air between us is heavy, charged with unspoken truths and fractured trust. And yet, despite everything, a small, infuriating part of me wants to believe him. That wants to fall back into the arms of the man I thought I knew.

But trust doesn’t come that easily. Not anymore.

Saul rubs the back of his neck, like he’s trying to steady himself before speaking. His voice is low and rough, with something that sounds a lot like regret. "I left because I had to, Tessa. When I found out Patrick was free, I couldn’t sit still. I had to make sure my grandmother and sister were okay. When I got there…" He pauses, his jaw tightening, his gaze flickering away before he forces himself to meet my eyes again."She was hurt. Patrick got to her before I did. She spent some time in the hospital, but she’s fine now. And he’s been put away—permanently this time.”

I reach out and rub his arm. I’m upset, but I can’t bear to see him in so much emotional pain.

His hands curl into fists at his sides before he unclenches them with visible effort. "I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to drag you into my mess. I didn’t want to burden you with my family’s chaos or derail everything you built. You were doing so well—your business, your life—it was everything you dreamed of. I didn’t want to be the storm that wrecked it." His voice dips even lower, rougher now, thick with something raw.

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