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“I couldn’t protect her, couldn’t convince her to save her own life. And if that wasn’t bad enough, my inability to do so made the last few months difficult. Edith wanted only to treasure her unborn baby, and I only wanted for her to see reason, even begged her to.”
He stared out the door, at the flowers in the garden. His voice sounded distant to his own ears as he continued, “And in the end, she died, and they barely managed to save your life.” He swallowed but pushed past the emotion in his throat. “And for the first few months, I wanted nothing to do with you. I wouldn’t hold you. I wouldn’t look at you. I kept thinking Edith would be alive if not for you. When you needed me the most and I should’ve been protecting you, watching over you, and treasuring the life I still had, I didn’t. I was selfish and hurt and not the father you deserved.”
To this day, he still felt guilty about those months. Now, he couldn’t imagine not loving his brilliant, bright daughter. He treasured her teasing nature, how she easily became excited, and even how she had a way with people and could charm anyone without barely trying.
He felt a hand take his, and he made himself meet Violet’s gaze. Even though her eyes were wet, she wasn’t crying. Yet.
She said softly, “It had to have been hard, Dad. I don’t remember those days, of course. I was too young. But from my earliest memory, you were always there, always cheering me on, and always trying to make me happy.” She bit her lip a beat before asking, “But do you still regret me?”
He pulled Violet into a hug and laid his cheek atop her head. “No, Violet. Never. I love you, you’re my life, and I can’t imagine the world without you.”
Her choked voice was hard to hear. “Even though I killed Mum?”
Bronx pushed her back until he could meet her gaze. “I’ve had so many years to think about this, and here’s what I’d say—your mother loved you so much, even before she’d held you, to the point she risked her life for you. You were wanted, Violet Wells, and still are.” He kissed her forehead. “I wish I’d spent your mother’s final days viewing them as she did—with anticipation and happiness. I didn’t, and I can’t change that. But I love you, Vi. You’re the greatest gift your mother could’ve given me. She would be so proud of you, love. So very proud.”
His daughter started crying, and he pulled her into his embrace again, allowing her to get it all out.
She might still hate him later, but right here, right now, he just wanted to hold his little girl and be there for her, especially since she was on the cusp of adulthood. Before he knew it, she’d find someone else to rely on, to love, and she wouldn’t need him as much any longer.
When she finally quieted, he still kept her in his arms. His voice cracked as he said, “I love you, Violet. I hope one day you can forgive me for not being there at the beginning, when you should’ve been my top priority.”
She leaned back, and he released her. After she wiped her eyes, Violet said, “There’s nothing to forgive, Dad. All I know is the loving, caring father I have.” She took his hand again, and he squeezed hers. “Thank you for telling me this. I know you’ve always tried to paint a picture-perfect life for Mum, but I like learning about the real her, even if it’s not always cheerful.” She searched his eyes a second and then asked, “You don’t still blame yourself for her death, do you?”
He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Sometimes.” Violet opened her mouth, and he beat her to it. “Rationally, I know that nothing I could’ve said or done would’ve changed Edith’s mind. Nothing. But my heart still thinks there was something I could’ve found to help her, maybe even a treatment I hadn’t heard of. That somehow, some way, if I’d tried harder, I could’ve had you both in my life.” He shook his head. “The game of what-if haunts me to this day.”
His dragon sniffed.You should think more on the present, which you can actually act upon.
Ignoring his dragon, he focused solely on his daughter and squeezed her hand. “In the future, if you still want to be around me, I’ll tell you more stories of your mum, any time you wish.”
She frowned. “Of course I want to be around you. You’re my dad, and as far as I remember, a bloody good one.”
The certainty in her tone cut through some of the guilt swirling inside him. “I try to be, love. Being your dad is the most important thing in the world to me.”
“I hope I’m not the only thing, though. I’m nearly an adult, Dad. And, you know, it’s okay to think of the future beyond me.” She smiled. “I want you to be happy.”
He said slowly, “Okay.”
She laughed and released his hand. “Don’t sound so wary.”
“I want to say you’re up to something, but I have no idea what.”
His daughter looked innocent, too bloody innocent, as she batted her eyelashes. “When have I ever been up to anything?”
He sighed but then heard something shatter in the hallway. Bronx rushed into it and saw Percy trying to pick up the pieces of the smashed vase on the ground. He was about to tell her to stop, when she flinched and said, “Ouch.”
Bronx’s protective instincts kicked in. He knelt, took her hand, and examined the slice on her finger. “Come with me.”
She followed, him keeping her finger up and his other hand beneath it to catch any blood, and they reached the bathroom. He turned on the tap, washed her fingers, and then dried it with tissues. He quickly put on antiseptic and then a plaster. Once it was done, he released her hand, and Percy brought it to her chest.
She stared at him, but he couldn’t read her expression. Had she overheard his conversation with Violet? Would she run from him now, knowing how he’d been a crappy father at first?
She simply stated, “I heard everything.”
And he waited to see what she’d say.
* * *
Percy hadn’t meantto keep eavesdropping in the hallway. And yet, she hadn’t been able to leave. The emotions, the pure pain in Bronx’s voice as he explained about his late mate and then the guilt and regret when he’d talked about struggling to be a new father through his grief, had tugged at her heartstrings.
