Chapter 23
My heart is thudding against my chest. It’s slower now, but still strong.
Maya lies with her nose pressed against my collarbone and it is everything.
I try to cradle her as gently as I can. Are you falling for her, Gonzales?
She looks gorgeous in the soft light and all I want to do is kiss her.
No, I am not falling for her. I am already on my knees.
“You are smiling,” she hums, not even opening her eyes.
But she is right. Of course she is. My smile widens and I nod. Not because she can see it, but I know she will feel it. And in this moment that matters more. I grab her hand and softly place it over my heart. She smiles too, now.
“I am happy,” I whisper.
The confession is more to myself than it is to her.
As soon as I say the words, I am hit with a pang of guilt.
How can I feel like this, when Marta isn’t coming home tonight?
When there are kids who can’t kiss their father goodbye because he’s burned beyond recognition?
How can this day of tragedy feel like the best day of my life?
Maya’s eyes flutter open, sensing the change within me. She studies my face for a moment, before touching my jaw so featherlight it almost breaks my heart. My eyes brim with tears. I swallow hard to push them down. Not now, Gonzales.
“El,” her voice sounds small, laced with worry. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, not trusting my voice. But she pushes herself up on her elbow now, her eyes still searching.
“Elena, please… talk to me?”
Her voice almost breaks at the end, and that is what undoes me.
Because how can I deny her anything after all that we shared?
Not just today, but everything before that too.
She might not be a firefighter, but I know she understands.
She has seen what the job demands of me, of my crew. Almost everything.
“We… we lost someone today.”
My voice rasps and my throat closes up.
“Her name was Marta. She was a mother, a nurse.”
I glance up at Maya. She doesn’t speak. Instead, she looks at me, calmly, waiting for me to continue. Her fingers softly stroking my arm.
“I promised her daughter I would get her out. I couldn’t. I was… When I… the explosion… There was nowhere for her to go.”
Suddenly the tears fall from my eyes, dripping on my cheeks and the sheets below.
My breathing speeds up until my chest aches and my body shudders.
She doesn’t pull away, she doesn’t tell me it will be okay.
No. Maya pulls me into her, against her chest, and lets me cry.
I grab at the sheets around us, clutching them tightly, as I bury my face under her collarbone.
My sobs fill the silence that stretches between us.
“Maya,” I hiccup, “how can I feel this happy, when something so horrible happened?”
I gasp for air as my crying intensifies.
My throat feels like it’s being strangled with iron hands, my lungs burn as if I ran half a marathon, and my shoulders are so tense I think I may never roll them back again.
I try to suck in air through my clenched teeth while pressing my forehead harder against Maya.
As if the feeling alone might ground me.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out as I cling to her now. “God, I’m so fucking sorry.”
A feral howl escapes me and Maya shifts beneath me instantly. I freeze. This is it. The moment where she runs. Where all this becomes too much. Already over before it even really started. But she doesn’t run. No. She takes my face between her hands, and forces me to look up at her.
“Darling, I need you to breathe now. Follow me. In through your nose,” she says low and steady before audibly breathing in. “Hold for four,” she continues, “and out again.”
I try to follow along. Even if I don’t like getting direct orders.
There’s something in her tone that makes me listen.
She breathes in again and so do I—shaky, in short rapid gasps, but calmer now.
We lie like that for a few minutes, until my breath has calmed enough for me to inhale without shuddering.
“Good,” she whispers.
I tremble as I find her eyes again. Her gaze still calm and steady.
“Now, tell me about her. If you want.”
I shiver. I’ve never let myself go like this with anybody.
Never shown this side of me, because they all run.
But here she is, asking for it. How did you deserve her?
There is no pressure behind her question.
It’s just an open invitation. For the first time in my life, something falls away, and it is freeing.
“I thought we had some time. The fire was in the other train. I should have calculated the risk better, if I had taken the—”
“Stop,” she puts a finger over my lips. “This isn’t about blame. Tell me about her.”
She softly kisses me then, before leaning back again. Those gentle blue eyes spur me on as if she didn’t just stop me from spiraling.
“She was hurt and couldn’t move. Her daughter was right there with her, and I sent her away. I stole her last moments with her mother, Maya.”
My lips tremble as I stare up at her, guilt gnawing at me, but she just softly shakes her head.
“No Elena, you prevented her from losing her life alongside her mother’s. You saved her.”
Rationally, I know she is right. It’s just my soul that can’t seem to catch up with that. I clench my jaw and swallow hard, letting the pain sit between us. Maya puts her finger under my chin and lifts it. Her lips press softly against my forehead.
“You don’t have to believe that right now. Let me hold that truth for you. Tell me the rest.”
“We were about to get her out, and she was genuinely happy to see me. Legitimately happy. I almost had her, if I had walked just a little faster… The pressure of the fire knocked out the compartment door. The backdraft pushed me back and… and… Marta… she… she…”
I break again as the words die in my mouth.
The tears roll down my face, into her hands, between her fingers.
She does not let me disappear inside of myself, because she knows what I am starting to realize.
I couldn’t save Marta. Not as a lieutenant, not as Elena.
There was nothing I could have done differently to change that.
“She knew…” I whisper. “Marta knew she was going to die today.”
Maya tilts her head at my newfound realization.
“That’s why she let me send her daughter away. She understood triage and she felt the heat of the fire before it scorched her. Oh God, Maya, she knew… she knew and she still smiled at me.”
Maya’s lips are on mine as her tears mingle with my own. I hadn’t even noticed she’d started crying. Our kiss is salty, wet, desperate for contact and nurture. She is holding me. In her own unique and caring way, Maya is sheltering me from the storm inside me. And I let her.
***
We spend the next two days in bed. Talking, laughing, and exploring each other inside and out.
For once in my life I am actually happy to be sent home on leave.
We do not speak about the metro disaster again.
Nor do we watch the news or any TV for that matter.
We order in, cuddle wrapped up in blankets, listen to music, and make love on every surface.
My apartment has never felt this alive. This lived-in.
I’ve always considered this my home. It’s the only place where I could truly be myself.
I’ve only brought in a woman twice, and regretted it instantly on both occasions.
But with Maya, it’s different. It seems right.
I watch how she pads over from the kitchen, bare feet and only wearing my shirt, with two steaming cups of coffee in her hands.
She carefully puts them down on the table, before crawling back on the couch and nestling up to my side.
I smile down on her, placing a soft kiss to her temple.
She hums with pleasure and turns to brush her lips against mine. I hum back.
“Hi,” she breathes.
“Hi,” I whisper.
I am about to pull her into my lap, when we are interrupted by the buzzing of her phone. It lies somewhere on the counter, discarded, but the robotic voice is loud enough to be heard throughout the whole building.
Helen Dubois.
Maya freezes in my arms.
Helen Dubois.
“Shit,” she murmurs, and is on her feet before I can stop her or ask what is going on. She rushes toward the counter and snatches her phone up, unlocking it as she goes.
“Helen, hi.”
Her voice sounds high and strangely strangled. I raise an eyebrow and rise. Her eyes widen and she turns away from me ever so slightly.
“Yes… no, of course. Very well, thank you. Yes.”
She is almost panting. What in the world has her this nervous?
I step closer, silently, stealthily, until my warm breath is ghosting against the back of her neck.
I see the goosebumps erupt all over her skin, and I put my hands on her hips, pulling her closer.
I smile when she actually rests her back against my chest.
“I still have to do that… No, it’s not exactly something we can schedule, Helen.”
I kiss the top of her head and smile against it. Some of the tension flows out of her body and I smile even more. Good girl.
“I’ll get it to you by next week. No, I cannot do this Friday. Next week or not at all, Helen.”
Maya turns sideways now, her free hand stroking my chest before grasping the fabric of my shirt. Her eyes dark with annoyance.
“No, Helen. Yes. Yes, of course I do, you know… yes. Yes. Fine. Friday.”
Without another word she ends the call and lets out a frustrated groan. For a moment it looks as if she is going to throw it, but she slams it down on the counter instead.
“Goddamn it,” she curses, and her eyes immediately dart to mine.
Before she can apologize, I am already grinning at her.
She should know by now that it doesn’t bother me. Far crasser things are said at the station, and she has heard it all. But her lips do not pull up for a grin. Not even one of those sheepish smiles I’ve come to adore so much.
“What’s wrong?” My voice drops and I wrap my arms tighter around her, every nerve suddenly on edge.
“That was my boss.”
“Oh?” I don’t press, I know she will tell me.
“She wants to know when I have my third interview ready.”
Just like that, it feels like the world disappears from under me. With the third interview, we are getting closer to the end. And even though I’ve been reluctant to start this, I can no longer imagine being at the station without her. I feel my jaw tick and she instantly stiffens in my arms.
“Elena… I…”
“Shhh,” I whisper, pulling her closer against me.
I know neither of us wanted to think about it.
For two days we got to live blissfully in our bubble.
But it was stupid not to think the outside world would come knocking.
We should have paused and thought about our responsibilities.
Our jobs. Fuck… What now? I press another kiss on her crown and squeeze my eyes shut.
“We’ll do the interview first thing tomorrow,” I push out, my voice gruff.
“But I’m not prepared.”
I glance at the clock. Two in the afternoon.
“Best get ready then, Carter. Do you want me to grab you a notepad?”
She stares at me. Her hands ball into fists against my chest. For a moment I think she’ll protest, but then she just shakes her head. Her face darkens with sadness.
“I need to have access to my computer.” She pauses. “I guess… I guess I should probably leave then.”
My eyes search her face. Her jaw is tight and she refuses to look at me, eyes brimming slightly. Her nostrils flaring and her cheeks flushed.
“Look at me,” I say steadily, and she finally does.
“I regret nothing that happened,” I flash her a crooked smile. “Go home, prepare for the interview, and we will do it tomorrow. Chief is most likely going to put me on paper duty anyway.”
She nods and gives me a watery smile. I have to fight every instinct inside me not to pull her toward me and make this go away.
To tell her that nothing will change. I don’t want it to.
But in all honesty, I don’t know what will happen.
Tomorrow, real life will come knocking again, and I’ll have to return to being Lieutenant Elena Gonzales.
And that, that might just change everything.