Page 57 of Redemption

I nod absently, detaching myself from the volatility of that night and looking at the memory with cool, clinical eyes.

It can’t hurt me if I don’t relive it.

“My father was driving drunk. A bad habit of his. He thinks he doesn’t have to follow the law when it’s inconvenient to him. He was driving us through the Dales when he took a corner too sharply. The Jeep rolled a few times. My father was unconscious for several hours. Katie didn’t make it.”

“Dane…”

My name wavers, and I finally look up at Abigail to find that her remarkable eyes are shining with tears.

Tears for my sister.

For my loss.

My chest aches, and it’s all I can do not to reach for her when I know she’ll recoil again.

“Is that why you…” She trails off and then tries again. “When I crashed the Jeep. I understand why that must’ve been so upsetting for you. I didn’t know.”

I try to shrug, but it’s a sharp movement to throw off her empathy. I can’t allow her emotions to bring out the new feelings she evokes in me.

Not when it comes to this.

Because if I feel what I felt that night, it’ll destroy me.

Maybe it already has.

Then, by some miracle, she’s closing the distance between us. She sinks down onto the chaise beside me and places a tentative hand on my knee.

I can’t help grasping it and pressing her palm directly over my aching heart. She doesn’t pull away.

“When I saw you covered in blood…” My breath shudders. “I wasn’t rational. I was consumed by the fear of losing you. If James hadn’t snapped me the fuck out of it, I wouldn’t have been able to help you. I’m sorry.”

“You did help me,” she says with the weight of a promise. “You healed me and took care of me. You are taking care of me. I’m right here, Dane.”

She places her other hand on my cheek, and I forget how to breathe.

“What you went through is terrible. No one should endure that.”

“I couldn’t save her,” I confess. “I didn’t know how to fix her.”

“You were a child.” Her thumb caresses my cheekbone, keeping me grounded to her. “Is that why you became a doctor? So you can fix people?”

I try to scoff. “I’ve told you before that there’s nothing altruistic about my career.”

“But you could, if you wanted to,” she counters quietly. “You have the knowledge to save someone if they’re seriously injured. You saved me.”

I wish that were true. I want to be the man she’s describing, but it’s just not who I am.

“You were never in danger of dying. I just patched you up.”

“But you didn’t know that when you first found me in the Jeep. You said there was a lot of blood. I was unconscious. I know that must’ve been traumatic for you.” She increases the pressure of her hand over my heart. “I’m safe now, Dane. You can breathe.”

Bright, hot hope sparks in my chest.

She said she’s safe with me.

Before, she’d said that she needed protecting from me.

Has something changed her mind?