by Kristy Love
“Is there anyone else in the house?” She shook her head violently, clutching the baby and rocking back and forth.
I turned and ran, sliding the oxygen mask over my face. I motioned to a few of the guys, telling them there was a possible survivor inside. I ran into the house and made my way to the back. The kitchen was in flames and my heart sank. If she was beyond this point, the chance she was okay was small. This fire was spreading fast and furiously. The smoke was so thick and dark it was hard to see through. I got down and crawled as water streamed into the kitchen, combating the flames. My heart raced and I broke out in a cold sweat. I needed to find this little girl. She needed to be alive.
A closed door separated the kitchen from whatever was beyond it. Luckily, the fire was more in the entryway to the kitchen. It was spreading fast, but it hadn’t quite made it back here. I reached up and opened the door, my eyes scanning the room. Smoke had seeped under the door panel and was quickly filling the room. I closed the door behind me, hoping to keep some of the smoke out for the time being. Most kids hid as soon as fire started. The smoke alarms throughout the house were blaring, so there was no way she wouldn’t know there was a fire raging somewhere in the house. The room was full of toys, a couch, and some craft items. I noticed the couch was next to the wall with enough space for a small child to fit. I went over there and, sure enough, the little girl was huddled there, tears streaking her splotchy face.
“Hi, Paisley. I’m here to help you,” I said, my voice calm, though muffled by the mask.
“Are you a fireman?” she asked, her voice small. She coughed, the smoke already bothering her small lungs.
“Yes, I am.”
“My preschool had a fireman come. I’m not supposed to be scared.”
“No, definitely don’t be scared of me. Can I help you?” She nodded her head. I scooped her up off the floor and saw a window that I could use to climb onto the deck. There was no way the little girl would have been able to break it or reach up to unlatch it on her own. I opened it and kicked out the screen, then climbed outside. She coughed some as I carried her. She’d likely be treated for smoke inhalation, but she’d be okay. I was filled with relief. As soon as I rounded the corner to the front of the house, her mother broke into a sprint and grabbed her little girl, kissing her face and loving on her.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” she said, hysterical now with gratitude instead of panic. “You saved her. You saved my little girl.”
The rest of the time there was a blur. The fire was extinguished. The woman’s husband showed up. The woman and her children were checked out by paramedics. The little girl ended up needing to go to the hospital to be checked out further, but she’d be okay.
Often, my days weren’t filled with happy endings. I saw overdoses, fatal shootings, and people killed in fires. I kept people alive in a bus only for them to die shortly after getting to the hospital. But today? Today was a good day. The house may have extensive damage, but the people made it out okay. Everyone lived.
And that was the best kind of day to have. Those were the days that made my job worth doing.
* * *
After sleeping, I realized I needed to fix things with Mia. I couldn’t have this distance between us. I missed her. I missed her friendship, her voice, her. I needed to apologize to her and see if we could still be friends, at the very least. I knew from experience how quickly life could change, forever altering the course you thought you were on. Seeing that mother a few days ago made me realize that I didn’t want to have regrets when it came to Mia. If I could get her to forgive me, I’d make it up to her—somehow.
After pacing and thinking, I decided to just do it. I didn’t need to do anything fancy or make a grand gesture. I needed to tell Mia where my head was and explain why I was such an epic dick. I crossed our yards and knocked on her front door, praying she’d open it without shutting it immediately in my face.
The door opened and Mia saw it was me. Her eyes immediately became guarded and she crossed her arms over her chest. I hated that I made her feel as though she needed to protect herself.
“Roman,” she said. Her voice was flat and emotionless. She clearly wasn’t sure how to deal with me.
“I wanted to talk to you. Can I come in?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“I’d prefer to do this when I’m not standing on your front porch.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’d prefer? What about what I’d prefer, Roman? I’d prefer for you to not kiss me and then run away as though it was the worst kiss of your entire life.”
“The worst kiss?” I’d really fucked up. The worst kiss? No, it definitely wasn’t the worst kiss. It was one of the best kisses I’d ever experienced. The way I felt about Mia was scary. I hadn’t felt this way since . . . forever, it seemed. That was why I ran. I ran because Mia was dangerous to everything I’d tried to keep hidden and at bay for years. Clearly, I underestimated how much I fucked up. I stepped closer to her, causing her to step back from the door. I moved until I stood in front of her then cupped her face in my hands. I could feel her building a wall between us; I could feel her pulling away, but I wasn’t sure what to do or how to fix it. I didn’t want her to lock me out. I wanted to continue with this friendship between us, this companionship that I’d begun to crave. “Mia, please hear me out.”
The fire mixed with tears as she unleashed at me, pushing me away from her. “No, you hurt me, Roman. You made me feel things . . . things I never wanted to feel again, and then you kissed me and I thought maybe, maybe you felt even a fraction of what I feel. But no, you had to run off. You left and I was here, trying to figure out where to go from there. I cried, Roman. You broke my heart and it’s already fragile. I can’t take more heartache and disappointment.”
She pushed against my chest. “You were supposed to be different. You were supposed to be there and you weren’t.” Tears slid down her cheeks and my heart twisted in my chest. I underestimated a lot of things, apparently. “I care about you, probably more than I should. And I like that. I like caring about you. I like feeling about you, but I won’t be a pawn in whatever messed up game you’re playing. You’re either my friend or you can leave. Right now.”
I ran my hand over my face, trying to pull myself together. “I care about you too, Mia. I really do. And that scares me shitless. It’s been a long time since I felt I needed anyone and I think I could need you. I don’t know what to do with that.” I shrugged. “I feel like a piece of me isn’t missing when I’m with you.”
“You make things okay, even just for a little bit. I feel like I can handle things with you by my side. And I don’t know what to do with that.”
I moved closer to her, wrapping my arms around her waist. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you and I ran out of here. I’m sorry I made you feel rejected and as though I don’t care because I do care. I care a lot. I want you in my life, Mia, in any way you’ll have me.”
She wiped a tear from her cheek. “Really?”
“Really.”
“But I’m such a mess.” She cried and laughed at the same time, resting her head against my chest.
“Then we’ll be messes together.” She looked up at me, her eyes shining with tears and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of hope. I leaned down, pressing my lips softly against her cheek. It was a kiss of promise, of hope, of maybe having a future. At the very least, it was a promise of right now. That was all either of us could promise. Right now, in this moment, we would be there for each other. We’d try to piece together the broken bits of our souls and hearts. Maybe we could make something whole out of it all.
Perhaps there was a small chance that we’d be okay. That was the best either of us could hope for.
CHAPTER 15
Mia
I HELD GIA’S HAND AS I let my thoughts roam. I thought about everything that had changed recently and the things that hadn’t changed. I spent more time with Roman and I had no idea what we were. Som
etimes he grabbed my hand and squeezed it or ran his fingers over my cheek, but he always pulled back, never letting it go farther than that. I felt surprisingly conflicted about it. Part of me wanted him to kiss me again. I craved it, I ached for it, and I wanted it. Badly. It almost bordered on need. I needed to feel him pressed against me. The other part of me wasn’t ready for any of that. I couldn’t be with him when I was hardly living at all. At the same time, he helped me live more than I’d lived in a long, long time. He made me feel things, especially conflicted.
And then there was Gia. Her breaths were sometimes raspy and she seemed to have to work hard to pull air into her lungs. It would happen for a few breaths and then she’d be fine. It was terrifying. I had no idea what it meant. The doctors were running tests, but so far they’d found nothing. No infection, no obstruction, no reason. I wondered if her little body was tired of fighting, of holding on. They had oxygen running again, pushing more into her body through her nose. I was afraid they’d have to put her back on a ventilator. The repercussions of that were scary.
As much as I wanted to think about Roman and maybe daydream about a future, I couldn’t. I couldn’t focus on anything other than this little girl. I felt I was an awful mother because sometimes I wished she’d give up. Her life wasn’t a life at all and I feared she held on for me when she was in pain. I had no way to know if she was in pain, if she knew I was here, if she knew how much I loved her.
The only sign of life were her breaths, the catheter bag that had to be changed, the heart rate that beeped steadily on the monitor. I didn’t want her to be in pain. I didn’t want her to feel trapped inside her body. If her mind was active and she was stuck in a dark world, unable to communicate or even open her eyes, it had to be scary. She was so little. I didn’t want her to hurt or be scared. I wanted to take it all away.
At the same time, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to move on. If Gia didn’t pull through, I wasn’t sure I could ever recover. I would be devastated. I would never be the same person again. Hell, I wasn’t the same person as I was a year ago.
Gia’s chest worked hard as she drew in a shaky, raspy breath. My heart stopped and I held her hand a little tighter. I worried every time it happened that she would eventually fail to draw in breath. Tears pricked my eyes. I didn’t know how to be strong for her or for me.
Her breathing steadied and got more regular. I closed my eyes, sending up a silent prayer of thanks. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, seeing a text from Roman.
Roman: Want to grab dinner tonight? I’d like to see you.
Me: I can’t. Gia isn’t doing well. Don’t want to leave her.
Roman: What hospital and room is she in? I’ll bring food to you.
Me: You don’t need to do that.
Roman: Let me take care of you.
I rested my forehead on the bed and cried. He wanted to take care of me and it felt as if my world was threatening to tumble down around me. I crawled up on the bed with Gia and held her as best I could. I wanted to feel her small body pressed against mine, sync our breathing to hopefully give her strength to keep living. I needed her in this moment. I needed her to wake and show me it would be okay. I needed to take care of her. I cried more, my tears soaking her hair. My cries were silent until her breaths turned raspy again and I lost it, sobbing so badly I shook the bed.
I cried until my eyes felt as gritty as sandpaper and wouldn’t stay open any longer. I drifted to sleep, holding my baby girl.
* * *
Something soft touched my neck and I moved to brush it away, wanting to stay in this dreamless sleep awhile longer. Something moved over my face, gently. I groaned and swatted at whatever it was.
“Mia,” a voice said, startling me. I opened my eyes slowly, taking in the sterile hospital walls, the beep of the monitor, the small head cradled against my chest. The voice belonged to Roman, but it didn’t make sense for him to be here. Not in Gia’s room, not while I slept. I hadn’t responded to his text telling him where Gia was, so how’d he get here?
I turned my head to see Roman standing over me, a small smile on his face. “There she is,” he whispered. Seeing him brought a smile to my face.
“You’re here?” I rolled over without jostling Gia too much. I stood and stretched, though Roman scooped me into his arms, holding me close and burying his face in my neck. My heart throbbed and swelled in my chest. Sometimes being close to him was painful because I wanted more, so much more.
“I was worried about you so I called David.” He didn’t move his face from my neck so his words were muffled. His breath was hot against my skin. It sent tingles down my spine at the same time it caused me to stiffen. “He asked about fifty questions before he would tell me where you and Gia were, but I wanted to be here for you.”
“You shouldn’t have called David.” I pulled away. I didn’t want David to know about Gia’s raspy breathing because he’d show up here and ask questions I didn’t want to answer.
He reached for my hand and squeezed. “You don’t have to worry. He was really cool about it. He said he’d come by later after you had a chance to eat something.”
I didn’t know how to explain that I was still pissed at David. He kept interfering with my life and showing up when it was convenient for him, not when I needed him most. He treated me like a little girl who was incapable of living on her own and I hated that. I hated that he asked Roman to keep an eye on me even though it led to this friendship with someone who helped make me feel okay.
Couldn’t I just have one thing in my life that my feelings weren’t conflicted over?
“I don’t want David here.”
“Mia, he cares about you. He’s struggling himself.”
“You think this is hard for him?” I stepped back, pulling my hand out of Roman’s. “This is my daughter, Roman. Mine.” I motioned toward her. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I didn’t want to fight with him. I didn’t want to fight with him in this room with my daughter. “He just isn’t who I want to spend time with, okay? He makes things more difficult for me.”
“I understand there’s strain between you, but you shouldn’t let that interfere with him being here for you. You don’t have to be an island.”
“I’m not an island.” I smiled at him, though I didn’t quite mean it. “I have you.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up and my heart melted toward him. He meant well and I knew he did. He wasn’t trying to upset me or hurt me. He was trying to do what he felt was right. “Yes, you do.”
“You should meet my daughter.” I grabbed his hand again and guided him the few feet to Gia’s bed. “Roman, this is Gia. Gia, this is Mama’s friend, Roman.”
Roman knelt down until his elbows were on the bed. He picked up Gia’s small hand in his own big one and brushed a hand over her hair. “Hi, Gia. I’ve heard so much about you.” He kissed the back of her hand.
In that moment, I thought my heart would explode out of my chest. He didn’t act as though it was weird to talk to a person who wouldn’t respond, he was just . . . Roman. I fell for him harder in that moment. It was difficult to be around him and it was getting even worse. I wanted his arms around me again, I wanted his lips pressed to mine.
God, I was so sick of being conflicted.
He rose and turned toward me, stopping when he saw the look in my eyes. I wasn’t sure what he thought, but he quickly looked away. “I brought you a burger, onion rings, and a chocolate milkshake from Zoe’s.”
I wanted to break some of the tension between us, so I smiled and moved over to the bags of food. “I love Zoe’s.”
“I know.” He held my eyes for a brief second as though he was trying to say something, trying to convey some kind of message to me. It was lost in translation, though. I had no idea what he wanted from me.
I opened the bags and got the food out, setting it on Gia’s bedside tray. I put straws in our drinks and sat down, motioning for Roman to sit in the chair next to me.
After taking a big bite and almost groaning from how good the burger was, I turned my attention back to Roman. “You’ve now met my entire family.” I gestured to Gia. “I don’t know anything about yours.”
I saw the shutters closing behind his eyes before he turned to look out the window, almost as if he was debating with himself. He was so closed off and didn’t let me see anything beyond his life here and now. And that life was empty, too. I wanted to be someone he could trust, someone he could tell his secrets and demons to. He knew enough of mine. I wished he felt he could open up to me. He finally looked back at me, his jaw set. “My mom died when I was very young. She had ovarian cancer and didn’t catch it until it was very late, to the point that they couldn’t do anything for her. My dad died when I was 20. He loved my mom so much that I think he didn’t know how to continue on without her, but he did, for me. He never moved on after her death.”
I rested my hand on top of his. “I’m so sorry, Roman. That’s so hard.”
He shrugged, as though it was no big deal. “There’s nothing to be done now. He did the best he could for me. He worked a lot and I had to be pretty self-reliant, but he took care of me. He just never recovered from my mom’s death. He never dated or showed interest in another woman.”
“True love.”
Roman’s brown eyes focused on me intently. “Do you believe in true love?”
Given my past, I wasn’t totally sure. I thought your heart could lead you to the wrong places, fall for the wrong person. But when I looked at Roman, maybe it was possible. Maybe true love was possible, but you had to be patient. “I’m not sure, but maybe. Maybe if you’re lucky, you meet someone who makes you feel whole, no matter how broken you are.”
“Do you think there’s more than one person for everyone?”
“More than one true love?”