Page 93 of Untamed Protector

Second, trust in yourself. You have the strength, intelligence, and resilience to handle whatever life throws at you.

I have to wrap this up now because your mom’s calling. Apparently, both of you are picky and want strawberries, so I need to go out and get some.

Until the next letter,

Your loving father, who’s eagerly waiting for your arrival

Iris takes her time folding the worn-out paper, which she’s likely read countless times by the looks of it. Lexi sobs, hiding her tears.

“As you can see from the letter, he was preparing to stand by your side no matter what you set out to accomplish,” I say.

“He’s gone now.”

“But I’m not. I’m here. And now you know how to reach me whenever you need me.”

“How? By running off to parties and setting off notifications on your tracker?”

“That too, if you want. But it’d be easier if you called me, came to visit, and told me about yourself and your plans,” I say, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

“How about lunch on Sunday?”

“Sure. I’ll be here every time you want me to.”

“And parent-teacher conferences? Man, you’re going to blow the principal away when she sees you.”

“Whenever you want. That’s my promise to you.”

“Then I’ll see you on Sunday. Are you coming too, Lexi?”

“If you’ll have me, I’ll be there,” Lexi says, wrapping her in a hug.

We walk out while Iris watches, and Nana Stella sees us off to the gate.

“It’s great that you came. She needs you—someone younger than me and more responsible than her mother. And she needs a father figure, Gabriel. God bless you for everything you’re doing for this girl.”

She hugs me, closes the gate behind us, and we quietly get into the car.

As we drive home, Lexi seems deeply lost in her thoughts. A weight has been lifted from my chest, and I surprise myself by making plans to include Iris in our lives. I keep saying our, even though Lexi hasn’t given me a final answer about her plans. A grumpy, introverted bodyguard playing father to a teenage girl probably isn’t a twenty-four-year-old woman’s dream.

“How did Iris get the letter?”

“From Stella. Didn’t you hear when she said that?”

“Maybe I missed it,” she replies, looking straight into my eyes. “But I didn’t miss the handwriting in that letter. It’s yours, Gabriel. I’ve seen it so many times on the fridge Post-its and on the documents in your study.”

“I didn’t know you’ve been snooping around in my study.”

“Don’t change the subject. You wrote the letter, didn’t you?”

I nod. She can know. She’s on my side, and she’s not going to tell anyone.

“Did someone help you? I never imagined you writing letters. You’re one of the most technical people I’ve ever met,” she says.

“A letter is more personal. It was also the only way to send her a message from her dad that she’d actually believe. You’ve seen how suspicious she is.”

“Still, those words you wrote, Gabriel… so powerful.”

“I wrote it as I’d write to my own child. She needed to connect with her father somehow. That’s all I could give her. It’s how I think Jake would’ve written it if he had thought of it.”