Page 18 of My Savior Valentine

With the rescue complete, I drive back to headquarters, my mind a mess of conflicting emotions. The elation of the successful rescue is tainted by the bitter taste of my cowardice. Ican't shake the image of Willow's face as I turned away from her, the hurt and confusion in her eyes seared into my brain.

I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white. What the fuck is wrong with me? I finally find someone who makes me feel alive, who sees past my walls, and what do I do? I push her away, too afraid of losing my job and my own fucking feelings to take a chance.

I hate myself for it, for the pain I know I've caused her. She deserves better than this, better than me. I'm a mess, a broken soldier who doesn't know how to let anyone in. I've spent so long building up these defenses I don't know how to tear them down.

But even as I tell myself it's for the best, that I can't risk my job and reputation for a woman I barely know, I can't ignore the ache in my chest. The way my heart raced when I held her, the electricity that coursed through my veins when our lips met. It felt right, like something clicking into place after years of being adrift.

I pull into the Mountain Angels parking lot, the familiar sight of the headquarters doing nothing to calm my racing thoughts. I know I need to report in to debrief with Viggo and the team. But the thought of facing them, of pretending everything is fine when my world feels like it's been turned upside down, makes my stomach churn.

I sit in the truck for a long moment, my head resting against the steering wheel. I close my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. But all I can see is Willow, her green eyes pleading with me to stay, to give this thing between us a chance.

I want to go to her, apologize for my behavior, and beg her forgiveness. But I can't—not yet. I need to get my head straight and figure out what the hell I'm doing. I can't be the man she needs, not like this.

13

WILLOW

Ilie in a hospital bed, my leg throbbing beneath the heavy plaster cast. The pain medication takes the edge off, but it can't touch the ache in my heart. I stare at the ceiling, replaying the moment Reid turned away from me over and over in my mind.

The warmth of his embrace, the tenderness of his touch in the snow shelter—it all feels like a cruel joke now. The way he kept his distance, his voice turning cold and formal as soon as help arrived—it's like a knife twisting in my gut.

I try to rationalize it. Maybe he was just being professional, focused on the rescue. But the abrupt shift, the way he couldn't even look at me... it felt personal. Like regret. Rejection. I guess it's just another one to add to the long list.

A humorless laugh escapes me, sending a jolt of pain through my leg. Of course. Of course, I would fall for my rescuer, only to be discarded as soon as the danger passed. It's like some cosmic joke, the universe mocking me and never giving me a fucking break.

I close my eyes, trying to shut out the memory of his face, his touch. It's useless. He's seared into my mind, an imprint I can't shake.

The door to my hospital room opens, and my parents walk in. Dad's face is etched with worry, Mom's with relief. It's the first time I've seen them since the helicopter landed, and I have no idea what I'm getting myself into.

I wipe my eyes and brace myself, expecting the usual lecture about safety and responsibility. But instead, Dad rushes to my bedside and gathers me in a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry, Willow," he murmurs into my hair. "So sorry. I can't even tell you what I went through when your mom told me you were missing..."

His voice breaks, and I feel my own throat tighten. "It's okay, Dad. I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have gone off on my own like that."

"I was so scared, Willow," Mom says, her voice trembling as she takes my hand. "When you didn't call, when we couldn't reach you... I thought..." She trails off, unable to finish the thought.

I squeeze her hand, feeling a pang of guilt. "I know, Mom. I'm sorry I put you through that. I just... I needed some space. To clear my head. But I should have been more careful."

Dad nods, his jaw tight. "We understand needing space, Willow. But you can't just go off-piste like that. Not after everything..."

"I know, Dad. I know. I wasn't thinking straight. I just... I wanted to feel like myself again. Like I could still do something right."

Mom brushes a strand of hair from my face, her touch gentle. "Oh, honey. You have nothing to prove. Not to us, not to anyone."

I feel tears prick at my eyes, and I blink them back. "But I failed, Mom. I failed at the one thing I was supposed to be good at. And now... now I don't know who I am anymore."

Dad leans in, his eyes intense. "You are Willow Jones. You are our daughter. And you are so much more than your skiing career."

"But what if that's all I was ever meant to be? What if I've already peaked, and it's all downhill from here?" The words spill out, voicing the fear that's been eating at me for months.

Mom shakes her head, a fierce look in her eyes. "Willow, listen to me. You are 24 years old. Your life is just beginning. One setback, no matter how big it feels, does not define you. You have so much ahead of you."

"Your mom's right, Willow. This is a new chapter. A chance to discover who you are outside of skiing. I'm sorry if I didn't make it clear before, but we'll be here for you every step of the way."

I feel the tears welling up again as Dad's words sink in. A new chapter. A chance to discover who I am outside of skiing. It's a terrifying thought but also strangely exhilarating. Like standing at the top of a new run, not knowing what lies ahead but eager to find out.

Mom's hand on my arm brings me back to the present. "So, who was that sexy rescuer who couldn't keep his eyes off you?" she asks, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

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