Chapter 31
The knock on my door makes my pulse stop for a single beat.
I glance at the clock on the wall and inhale sharply.
Everything in me wants to run toward it, toward her.
But then what? Will we pretend this never happened?
I don’t think I can do that. To go back to pretending there is nothing between us.
Not when every fiber in my body longs for her.
“Maya, please?”
Her muffled voice cuts through me like a blade and I feel the tears well up immediately. I dig my nails into my calves and press my face against my knees. Why can’t this all just go away?
When I hear the rattling at the door, I snap my head up. I am just in time to see Elena push it open, holding the key I only gave her yesterday. For that one moment. And didn’t even bother to ask for it back because…
“Get out.”
My throat is so raw that my voice comes out low and raspy. It startles her, stopping her in her tracks. Good.
“Maya…”
I shake my head, my body trembling now. There is nothing she can say or do to make this pain go away.
And I can’t even blame her for that. I always knew her career would come first. She didn’t make a secret of that.
Hell, she didn’t even make a secret of not liking me in the first place.
How could I have been so stupid to think she would choose me?
That I would at least be a consideration rather than a clear dismissal?
“Don’t,” I hiss.
“That’s not fair…”
“Not fair? Elena, you pretended as if I was nothing. Nobody. You didn’t even look at me. Don’t talk to me about fair.”
I mean to scream the words, but they come out eerily calm instead. Elena’s face crumples and she brings her fist to her chest as if I just stabbed her.
“What did you expect me to do, Maya? Do you realize the consequences it would have had for both of us if I admitted to it? And not just us, but the crew as well? And don’t you dare think that this hasn’t gutted me. I was put on the spot and I had to choose fast. You have to understand that.”
I nod once. Sharp, cold.
“I understand that you didn’t choose me. Leave the key.”
I press my face against my knees again as Elena shuffles uncomfortably.
The tears are streaming over my cheeks now and internally I am screaming for her to hold me.
If she touches me right now, it will all be over.
I will forgive her and agree to whatever it is she needs.
No matter what it would cost me. And that is not something I can allow myself to do.
But she doesn’t touch me. Instead, she bristles and slams the key against the table.
“Don’t act like such a martyr. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same if Helen had asked you,” she spits out.
For a moment I freeze, because she is right. I had denied it. When I raise my head to look at her, I can see the desperation on her face. It slices through me and I almost scream at the pain it causes. The second she sees me wince, she steps forward but I quickly raise my hand.
“You are right. I would have. You think your job is the only one on the line here? Do you really think people take journalists seriously who sleep with their interviewees?”
“Is that all I am to you? A topic? An article?”
“No, El…”
She cuts me off before I can finish my sentence.
“You want to talk to me about ethics? What about how you got into my fucking head and I can’t even think straight? This doesn’t just involve you and me. It also involves the safety of my crew, of all those people who depend on me to be there for them. And here you are just… just…”
“Just what, Elena?”
She grunts and brings her hands up to her face. My breath stutters when I see the blood on her fingers and I move before I can stop myself.
“You are hurt.” I grab her hand, but she instantly recoils.
“I’m fine.”
I stare at her, my chest heaving just as rapidly as Elena’s.
She doesn’t meet my gaze. Instead, her jaw rolls and her hands ball into fists again.
I step back slowly, dazed more than anything else.
This woman confided her darkest moments in me only days ago.
Kissed me this morning like I was all the oxygen she needed. But now…
“Why did you come?”
My voice breaks as I ask the question and she finally looks up. Her brown eyes flash over me. No longer filled with fire, but with an emptiness that shocks me to my core.
“Lo siento. I shouldn’t have.”
When her shoulders slump and she turns around I can’t breathe. I can’t move as she walks out of my door and closes it behind her. I can’t cry as I stand there for minutes after she has left. It’s over. And just like that, nothing makes sense anymore.
***
There are many brave women in the world, but it takes a special kind of woman to walk into a burning building to save a life. Elena Gonzales is that woman. With her brown curls and dark eyes, she could…
“Damn it.”
The curse falls from my lips before I even finish the sentence.
What is this shit? My love letter to the lieutenant?
I need to write this article before Helen bites off my head.
I have bills to pay, and a name to rebuild.
Especially now that the whole situation with Elena isn’t really a situation anymore.
It’s done. Over. I need to focus on my work, not on her.
I groan and delete the paragraph. This is my own stupid fault.
I knew from the beginning it would get me in trouble, but did I let that stop me?
No, of course not. I had to see the ‘ice queen’ without her mask.
Build real connections with her and fuel that spark between us.
Fucking idiot. My jaw throbs until I actively force my molars apart while my fingers hover over the keys. Let’s try again.
Can you imagine waking up in the middle of the night, surrounded by flames? Fear gripping at your heart, until this gorgeous woman sweeps you into her arms and…
“Jesus, Maya.” I slam my hand against the desk and remove the lines. “You are a journalist for crying out loud.”
There is not a single moment of quiet when you step inside the firehouse.
The constant chatter on the radios, the wailing of alarms, vehicles driving in and out of the bay—it’s all part of the organized chaos.
The crew of Barcelona’s Stationhouse 2 is always ready to roll out at any moment.
Not just toward fires, but also toward car crashes, chemical leaks, medical emergencies, and anything else that can go wrong in a city that is always buzzing.
Protecting Barcelona means routine, but routine does not mean rest. These firefighters live with a constant pressure in their chests, a pulse under the surface.
Every life depends on them, and every alarm a threat to their promise—to serve and protect us all.
I stare at the blinking cursor for a moment.
The words aren’t bad, just devoid of anything Elena.
Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe I should make this one more about the crew instead of just her.
She hates the spotlight anyway and she made it very clear that her ‘family’ always comes first. I can tell Helen it was per her request. The sour taste of resentment fills my mouth, immediately followed by a stab of guilt.
Of course I could not say that. It would throw her under the bus and she is in enough trouble with Salisar as it is.
The thought of the Chief makes me fold into myself and I feel the tears welling up again.
How could I have been so stupid and why do I still care?
Because you love her, Maya Carter. You are crazily, stupidly in love with her.
The phone buzzes and for a moment my heart leaps into my throat.
Elena? But when I glance at the screen, I see it is Mary.
My fingers tremble but I press answer regardless.
She and Catherine have shown me nothing but kindness and support.
They might be the only ones who will understand what is happening and not judge me for it.
“Hola, Mary,” I whisper, my voice still rough from emotion.
“Wow, girl, you sound… are you okay?”
Her voice pitches up in a concerned tilt. I am already opening my mouth to say I am fine, when a low sob escapes. Mary gasps audibly. There is a shuffle and some muffled sounds.
“Are you home, babe?”
“Ye… yeah?” I stutter, uncertain of why she asks.
“We’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
She ends the call before I can object, leaving me staring at the illuminated screen.
I should call her back, tell her not to come over.
But really, I don’t want to. I don’t want to be alone right now.
I glance at my phone again. The absence of her texts is another reminder of what could have been.
My fingers dart over the screen as I pull up the text app.
2 days ago E. Gonzales –
Can you bring my jacket? I think I left it.
I stare at the words and then glance at the hallway.
Her jacket is still there. I am up on my feet before I can stop myself, snatching it from the hook and pressing it against my face.
It smells like her, like sandalwood and smoke.
That grounding scent that clings to her skin, like the earth after a rainstorm.
My knees buckle and I sink to the floor, wrapped in Elena’s scent.
The only person I want to run to, but can’t. And that is all on you.