Chapter 5 - Chloe #2
The casual reminder of his invitation—made in what we thought might be our final moments—brings a rush of warmth to my face. "You were serious about that?"
"Completely," he says, his eyes holding mine. "Unless you've changed your mind?"
"No," I say quickly, almost embarrassingly so. "I haven't changed my mind."
His smile could light up the room. "Good. It's a date, then."
A date. With the handsome firefighter who saved my life. Who stayed by my side all night to make sure I wasn't alone when I woke up. If my mother could see me now, she'd probably think I'd lost my mind—or worse, that I was acting out some sort of damsel-in-distress fantasy.
But there's nothing about this that feels like fantasy. The pain in my throat is real. The loss of my office and everything in it is real. And the way Lewis is looking at me, like I'm something precious he almost lost—that feels real too.
"The nurse said I might be discharged this afternoon," I tell him. "But she also said I shouldn't be alone for the first night or two. I'm not sure what to do about that. I don't really know anyone here yet."
Lewis doesn't hesitate. "You can stay with me. Or if that's too weird, my brother Ollis and his girlfriend Evelyn have a guest room. Or there's always Max and Jennie—they've got a spare room too."
The offer is so genuine, so matter-of-fact, that it takes me a moment to process.
"I couldn't impose like that," I protest.
Lewis shakes his head. "It's not an imposition. That's how things work in small towns, Chloe. People help each other out."
I think about what Gladys said—that Cedar Falls takes care of its own. It's so different from Chicago, where neighbors can live next door to each other for years without speaking. Where my own parents probably wouldn't have offered a spare room to a stranger, no matter the circumstances.
"Thank you," I say finally. "If you're sure it's not too much trouble..."
"I'm sure," Lewis says firmly. "And hey, this way I can make good on my promise to cook you the best cheeseburger in town. I make a mean one, even if it can't compare to Madeline's Diner."
The casual confidence with which he assumes I'll stay with him rather than his brother or friend isn't lost on me. Nor is the way it feels completely natural, despite the fact that twenty-four hours ago, we were strangers.
"I look forward to judging your culinary skills," I say, matching his light tone. "Though after hospital food, anything will taste amazing."
Lewis laughs, and I find myself laughing too, despite my sore throat. It feels good, this moment of normalcy amid the chaos of the past day.
A thought occurs to me then, something I should have asked immediately. "Shouldn't you be at the fire station? I don't want to keep you from your job."
"I'm off duty," Lewis says. "Chief's orders, actually. Said I needed to recover from the smoke inhalation." He rolls his eyes slightly, making it clear what he thinks of that assessment. "I'm fine, but I'm not going to argue with a day off."
"A day you're spending in a hospital chair," I point out.
He shrugs, unrepentant. "Can't think of anywhere I'd rather be."
The simple statement, delivered without any hint of flirtation or exaggeration, makes something warm unfurl in my chest. How is it possible to feel this connection to someone I've known for such a short time?
Before I can respond, there's a knock at the door, and a doctor enters—young, with kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses.
"Ms. Bennett," he says with a smile. "I'm Dr. Aaron. How are you feeling this morning?"
"Better," I say truthfully. "Still sore, but better."
"Good, good," he says, reviewing my chart. "Your oxygen levels are much improved, and nurse Gladys says your lungs sound clear. I think we can remove the nasal cannula now and see how you do on room air."
He gently removes the oxygen tube from my nose, then listens to my breathing with his stethoscope.
"Sounds good," he pronounces after a moment. "If you continue to improve, I see no reason why we can't discharge you this afternoon. Though I do recommend having someone stay with you for at least the next 24-48 hours, just to be safe."
"That's already arranged," Lewis says from his chair, with such authority that neither the doctor nor I think to question it.
The doctor nods approvingly. "Excellent. I have a few things to care about, and I’ll return soon. Any questions?"
I shake my head, and the doctor gives me one more reassuring smile before leaving. As the door closes behind him, I turn to Lewis, a mix of emotions swirling inside me— mostly gratitude and confusion.
"You don't have to do all this, you know," I say softly. "You've already done more than enough. You saved my life."
Lewis meets my gaze steadily. "I want to," he says simply. "And not because I feel obligated or because of what happened in the fire. I want to get to know you, Chloe. Fire or no fire."
There's such honesty in his voice, such genuine interest, that I find myself believing him. This isn't about obligation or heroics. This is about two people who found a connection in the most unlikely of circumstances.
"Okay," I say, smiling despite the ache in my throat. "I want to get to know you too."
His answering smile is like the sunrise outside my window—warm and full of promise. And as we sit there, comfortable in a silence that feels older than our acquaintance, I find myself thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was a reason I chose Cedar Falls.
Perhaps I was always meant to end up here, in this hospital room, with this man who rushed into a burning building to save a stranger and then stayed to make sure she didn't wake up alone.
It's not the fresh start I planned. It's messier, more complicated, more painful—literally, given my raw throat and aching lungs. But looking at Lewis, I can't help feeling it might be exactly the fresh start I need.