Page 94 of Her Redeemed Protector

I can’t help but laugh. “Trust me, buddy, it’s just as fun. Especially when you don’t have to clean up!”

36

SAVANNAH

When I told Huxley about coming home to surprises he hadn’t expected, my words were light, frivolous. We both dreamed of children, of course, imagining little feet padding across our living room floor. But aside from Rodolfo, our future plans for expanding our family were just that. Future plans. Yet, it appeared life had other ideas. Despite our precautions, something slipped through the cracks...

Finding an alone moment in the confines of my truck, I cover my mouth with a hand, stifling a burst of emotions. A squeal of happiness escapes me, laced with threads of excitement and nerves. The reality is still settling in. The doctor at the clinic had confirmed what the faint blue lines on the home test had whispered:I am five weeks pregnant.

Pulling out my phone, I open the last photo Huxley sent from his journey, a snapshot of his laid-back grin just before boarding his flight from D.C. to Bogota. The one where he warned me he’d be switching off his US phone. My fingers trace the contours of his face on the screen, my heart aching with the distance between us.

The joy is immense, overwhelming, yet it lodges in my throat, unshared and silent. This life-changing moment feels incomplete without him. I can only conjure up the image of his reaction, so distinct from the impossibly cute expression captured in the image I now hold. His eyes would light up, the corners of his mouth lifting in that knowing smile that says everything without words.

He had insisted on using a local prepaid phone for the duration of his mission and made me promise not to reach out. He would contact me first. The separation is challenging enough, but harboring such momentous news makes the wait feel excruciating.

“Oh, baby,” I murmur, my fingers brushing against the fabric of my shirt where it stretches across my belly. The word ‘baby’ is a whisper of promise to Hux, to us, and to this incredible secret I carry.

But the moment shatters as my gaze snags on a glimpse of something disturbingly familiar—a car, sleek and dark, slicing through the traffic with a purpose that knots my stomach. It’s too much like the one I’ve seen lurking when I least expect it.

Compelled by a mix of annoyance and the need for answers, I shake off the lingering touch of joy and start the engine. I fall into line behind the car as it glides into the shopping center parking lot, seeking anonymity among the sprawl of vehicles. I can’t let this go. Not now. I need to know!

I press the accelerator, my car darting forward to block the mysterious vehicle, trapping it in its parking space. I’m out of my seat in a heartbeat, striding toward the driver’s side with determined strides.

“Hey! What the hell is your problem?” I yell, pounding on the tinted window that shields the driver from view, my voice a spear thrown in defense of my disrupted peace.

The window rolls down with a reluctant whirr, and I’mmet with a face I don’t recognize—a woman, her expression as stormy as mine. Beside her in the passenger seat, an elderly man clutches an asthma inhaler. She attends to him, her actions halted by my confrontation.

“What the hell isyourproblem?” she fires back as the old man stares at me.

The fight drains from me as quickly as it surged, replaced by a flush of embarrassment. Thank God, the upheaval doesn’t seem to exacerbate the man’s breathing.

“Sorry! Sorry, my mistake,” I stammer, backing away, mumbling apologies under the clasp of humiliation.

I retreat to my car, hearing my own whispers of doubt and heart pounding in my chest. Was it all just my imagination? The seed of fear still lingers even as I pull out of the parking lot, leaving the strangers—and my momentary lapse—behind.

Despite my plan for a relaxing evening with a long bath, the scene awaiting me at home only tightens the knots of stress in my shoulders.

Fabian’s eyes widen as I enter. “You look different,” he observes, an edge of surprise in his voice.

My patience is already wearing thin. “Fabian, I’m not in the mood for this,” I snap, feeling isolated without Ranger and Ruby, my usually noisy allies, to back me up. The thought of reaching for Dad’s rifle crosses my mind.

He doesn’t flinch, his gaze lingering. “Don’t be like that. You do look… different.” He squints slightly, trying to pinpoint the change.

Of course I look different. I’ve just had a bizarre encounter with a woman and her elderly passenger. Or maybe…

My hand twitches toward my belly, but I stop myself.

Fabian takes a breath, his tone shifting. “I’ve been doing some serious thinking.”

“Hopefully about the court hearing.”

He ignores my jab. “About everything I didn’t do right. How I failed to listen, to show you how deeply I care.” His voice no longer carries the usual pushiness. “You know I have my pride. But here I am, Savannah, practically begging. I believe we have a future together, and I need you to see it, too. I’m ready for any challenge, even if it means facing your wrath, as long as it helps you trust in what I feel.”

My fist clenches reflexively. “Are you sure about that?”

His hands fly up. “Whoa… not literally.”

“Didn’t think so,” I mutter, my voice thick with skepticism.

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