Page 65 of Her Redeemed Protector

I lean into his embrace. “Yeah, much better,” I respond, ready to listen and understand.

“So, you’re asking for a confession?” he says. The word ‘confession’ strikes a harsh note, as if he’s being coerced.

Feeling the impact of my earlier abruptness at the restaurant, I shift closer to him, finding his shoulder to rest on. “Remember when you brought Dad to see me in the hospital?”

“Yeah. You two were like two comets colliding,” he jokes. “No pun intended.”

I chuckle. “You know how he can be. Blunt as a judge from the old Wild West.”

“What did he say to you, Sav? That silence afterward… I still remember it.”

“He just blurted out, ‘Don’t you dare join your mother,Saltamontes!’”

We pause, our eyes lost to the stars, perhaps mine searching for a comet.

Continuing, I explain, “I think the accident that afternoon shook him more than I realized.”

“Any father would be shaken,” Hux agrees.

I take a deep breath, the night air cool around us. “Not long after my mom died, Dad told me about a pact they made long before I was born. If ever a choice had to be made, shemade him promise to save the child.” The implication of their agreement settles like dust after upheaval. “They never had to make that choice, though. You heard Dad. I was born smack on our ranch pathway and Mom had never been happier. Apparently, my cries were as healthy as they come—loud and impatient.”

Hux smiles, a mixture of amusement and anticipation of the heavier part of my story.

I press on, “I believe, somehow, Mom died keeping that promise, whether consciously or not. That evening, black ice caused our car to tumble down a slope. We were both in a coma after the crash—hers from the impact, mine medically induced. Only I woke up, and she didn’t. Somehow, she knew Dad’s world would crumble without me.”

The memory tightens my voice, “I’d always wondered if maybe Dad blamed me. If I hadn’t begged for a trip to the city that weekend, Mom would’ve been safe at home.”

“You know that’s not true, right?” Hux’s voice eases my sudden sorrow.

“I knew it, and yet I doubted,” I admit. “Until the two comets collided at the hospital that day. You were there. Dad said, if he ever had to choose between me and Mom, he’d pick me—no matter what. He’d never articulated it that clearly before. It stung initially, but I came to realize why. He loved her dearly, Hux. Still does. Yet, he loves me more.”

“Now I understand,” he murmurs, so low I almost didn’t catch it.

“Understand what?”

He hesitates for a moment before revealing, “Right after we left your room that day, I confronted your dad. I couldn’t stand seeing you so upset.”

He did that? I search his face and see it in his expression. He did so to defend me.

Hux carries on. “He told me I’d only understand if I ever had a daughter of my own.”

“Oh, Hux.” I’m touched, barely believing my father would show such openness to another man. “He really sees something in you.”

Huxley rubs my arm, still hugging me. “He’s a good dad, Sav.”

“He is.”

He slows his pace considerably. “That same day, you mentioned something about ‘an angry wish.’”

I nod, remembering how he pondered my words as he sat by my hospital bed.

“Sav, my story might hurt you. It might even change your mind about me.”

“How?” I prompt, my concern deepening.

“Colombia. What I told you that night barely scratched the surface.”

“What’s your angry wish, Hux?”

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