Page 279 of Broken Saint
There have been many that have come before her that West and I were never introduced to. Most of them didn’t stick around long enough for them even to be mentioned to us.
A few have lingered for a few months, but I never thought they’d stay.
After Mom, Dad refused to have a relationship.
I got it. Hell, I still do.
She hurt him in ways I’m sure we’ll never fully understand. It’s why I believed him when he said never again.
But then there was Hilda.
I’ve never met the woman, but there must be something pretty special about her if she’s convinced my dad to put a ring on it.
Everyone watches as they move into the room and toward two of the three empty seats.
“Good evening, sorry we’re late.”
“Our flight was delayed,” Hilda explains. “Then I thought they’d lost my luggage but?—”
“Take a seat, love,” Dad says interrupting her while he pulls her chair out.
We watch in astonishment as he holds it for her and waits until she’s seated to lower himself down.
“You watching this shit?” West mutters under his breath.
I don’t answer, I can’t. I’m too shocked by his chivalry.
“Did Nova not travel with you?” Ella says, speaking for the first time since they entered.
Ella hasn’t forgiven my father for what happened when I was in the hospital. I haven’t either, but he’s still my father.
“Yes, she did. She’s gone to her room to freshen up,” Hilda explains.
Nova is her daughter. Our new stepsister.
“She’ll be down shortly. Please, don’t let us stop you all,” Hilda says, finally referencing the fact we were all mid-meal when they decided to grace us with their presence.
Heat blooms on my thigh before Ella’s tiny hand squeezes encouragingly.
“Ignore them,” she whispers, sensing my irritation. “Tonight and tomorrow is about us, not him.”
Turning to look at my soon-to-be wife, I take in the lightness in her eyes and the smile playing on her lips.
She’s in such a good place right now. We both are.
A familiar soft voice hits my ears and I look to the person sitting beside Ella in a high chair.
Sure, the therapists might have something to do with our current frames of mind, but our little angel has a lot to do with it as well.
From the first moment that Ellison was born, Ella morphed into the most incredible mother.
And our little girl…damn. She’s everything.
At only a year old, I can already see her personality shining through.
She reminds me so much of West when he was little, but instead of the dark hair, she has her mommy’s golden locks.
She’s given us even more reason to fight our battles, and I will forever be grateful for her. We didn’t plan or expect her, but she’s been everything we needed.