26. NICK
Irubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the drowsiness that had settled over me. The half-empty bottle of wine stood in front of me, urging me to finish another glass. I had to admit it was kind of numbing, which was something I really needed at the moment.
The gentle hum of my computer in the dim room began to annoy me. I quickly turned it off and dropped my head onto my desk. I felt so exhausted and drained of energy.
“Nick?” a female voice suddenly said.
Am I dreaming? Have you visited me in my dream, Izzy?
I raised my head a little and looked toward the doorway. And there she was—Isabelle Turner. My heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, I forgot the weariness that had consumed me. Her silhouette in the doorway seemed like a mirage, yet there was a sense of urgency in her voice.
“Izzy?” I responded, my tiredness momentarily forgotten. I sat up straight, but my vision wasn’t so clear. I squinted in the dark. “You came,” I whispered, my heart soaring. “I’m so glad you came.”
I could feel confusion emanating from her, but I couldn’t see her face clearly. But her presence triggered so many emotions in me. Suddenly, I couldn’t help myself.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t seem to commit to you, even though I know how much I truly care for you. This is me, Izzy. I’m messed up. I’ve never felt this way before, and I just can’t…I don’t know how to handle it…please forgive me…”
She stepped into the room and walked toward me. “Nick, I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
“You sound different,” I murmured, the headache coming back. I tried to stand up, but the sudden movement made me dizzier. I ended up sitting again. “Izzy, please forgive me. I left because I knew that you didn’t deserve someone like me. Even Dan is better for you. I’m not the man for you, and I won’t be able to make you happy… I’m just so damn messed up, you know?”
To my surprise, the woman’s soft voice said, “I know. But it’s not too late for you and Izzy.”
Why is she mentioning herself like she’s another person?
She headed toward me, coming into the light. When her face was illuminated, I saw that it wasn’t Izzy at all. It was Kath, my ex-girlfriend.
“You’re not Izzy,” I whispered. “What are you doing here, Kath?”
“I don’t know, Nick,” she admitted, taking the seat in front of my desk and squeezing my hand. “I guess because I’ve never really stopped caring about you. But now, seeing you like this and hearing you talk about Izzy…I now understand that you can never be mine. You’ve finally learned to fall in love…but not with me.”
I understood what she was saying. I did not know how to respond, though so I remained quiet.
She gave me a sad smile. “You shouldn’t waste it, Nick. You have true feelings for her, and she’s a special woman. You have to tell her. It’s time to step up.”
Suddenly, the alcohol that clouded my head began to clear up. I pictured Izzy’s beautiful smile and her bright innocent-looking eyes. I recalled how happy I’d felt in her presence, how she made me feel when we were together.
“I’ll see her tomorrow,” I said with conviction. “You’re right. It’s time.”
I can’t be a coward now, I thought.
“Thanks, Kath,” I added.
“Of course.” She extended a hand toward me. “Friends?”
“Friends,” I agreed, shaking her hand.
Just then, a shrill ringing sound from my phone made me come to full alert. I answered it.
I groaned when I saw Dan’s name. But I remembered that he had been with Izzy when I’d left the party. Something’s up, I thought. Or he wouldn’t bother calling me.
“Dan, what’s up?”
The tone of urgency in his voice sent a jolt through me. “Nick, you need to get back here!” his panicked voice spilled through the phone, reverberating above the noisy background. “A fire broke out, and we can’t find Izzy anywhere! The firefighters are here, but they haven’t seen her either.”
The color drained from my face. Fire. The word echoed in my mind, and without a second thought, I shot out of my chair, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
Izzy. The image of her, trapped in the chaos of a fire, fueled my urgency.
“I”m on my way,” I replied hastily, the words barely out before I ended the call. The home office, once a sanctuary, now felt oppressive, and I rushed out without a second thought. “Sorry, Kath, I gotta go…” I added as I left the room.
As I reached for my car keys, my mind raced through a thousand scenarios. The drive to the event venue was a blur, the city lights a dizzying display outside the car window. I prayed that Izzy was safe, that the fire hadn”t reached her. The weight of worry pressed on me, and time seemed to stretch endlessly.
I dialed her number as I drove. Her phone couldn’t be reached.
Fuck! Please be okay, Izzy. Please wait for me. Please.
I parked the car hastily, my heart pounding in my chest. The chaotic scene in front of the building sent a shiver down my spine. The once elegant venue now bore the scars of the fire, with smoke billowing into the night sky. Emergency lights flashed in disarray, and the distant wails of sirens filled the air.
Some paramedics were carrying a stretcher into an ambulance. I caught a glimpse of the injured man and recognized him as one of the staff members of EcoChic.
I rushed toward the building, the smell of smoke lingering in the air. Firefighters in their gear moved with purpose, and the crowd outside was a mix of anxious onlookers and disoriented attendees. The relief of seeing that the fire had been contained warred with the dread of the unknown.
Amid the chaos, I spotted Tanya. Her tear-streaked face mirrored the distress I felt inside. She rushed to me, her words tumbling out in a rapid stream.
“Nick, she”s in the dressing room backstage. I talked to her earlier, but the signal wasn’t good, and she didn’t sound well too and…Oh, I’m so scared! But the firefighters are trying to get her out now!” Tanya”s voice quivered with fear and worry. Behind her, a group of models were huddled together, their skin bearing the grime from the fire.
I nodded, the gravity of the situation settling on my shoulders. “Wait here, Tanya. I’m going to get her out.”
I was stopped when I tried to get into the building, but luckily someone recognized me and let me in. I made my way through the crowd, each step a silent prayer for Izzy”s safety.
The venue itself appeared to be greatly damaged but still stable. Just a few hours earlier, it had been the opposite appearance. I shook my head in disbelief.
My heart hammered in my chest as I rushed through the backstage area, the distant sounds of chaos and sirens fading into the background. My mind raced with a torrent of emotions, each step carrying the weight of fear and urgency. The memories of our moments together in the dressing room flashed before my eyes, intensifying the knot of anxiety in my stomach.
As I approached the blocked entrance, two determined firefighters were in the midst of moving a charred piece of furniture, a grim testament to the intensity of the fire. The pungent smell of smoke hung heavily in the air, a stark reminder of the recent danger that had engulfed this space.
“Izzy!” I called out. “Are you there?”
When the furniture was finally taken away. I quickly opened the door, revealing a scene that sent a surge of panic through my veins. Izzy lay unconscious on the floor, her face and body smudged with soot. The lower part of her face was covered with a scarf, a feeble attempt to shield herself from the thick smoke. A desperate cry escaped my lips as I rushed toward her.
”Izzy! Wake up, please!” I pleaded; my voice strained with anguish. My hands shook as I tried to wake her.
But she remained unresponsive, her body limp in the hands of the firefighters who expertly carried her out of the dressing room.
“Is she breathing?” I asked as I went after them.
“Yes,” one of them answered.
That answer still didn’t calm me down. The harsh reality of the situation gripped my chest, constricting with each passing second. Fear, helplessness, and a torrent of emotions surged through me, fusing with a rising fury that stemmed from the bitter memories of pain I had caused her in the past.
Inside the moving ambulance, I sat beside her, holding her hand. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor seemed to punctuate the tension in the confined space. My hands trembled, a mixture of fear and desperation moving through my core.
I leaned in close, my lips brushing against Izzy’s ear as I whispered words of reassurance, my voice a fragile thread of hope in the midst of uncertainty. “It’s Nick, Izzy. I’m here with you now. I won’t leave anymore. Please, fight for your life.”
I felt a lump form in my throat as I gazed at her pale face. The steady flow of oxygen into her lungs was a stark reminder of the fragility of life, and a silent prayer lingered on my lips, hoping it wasn”t too late for her to rally against the looming threat.
As the ambulance raced through the city streets, every passing second seemed to stretch into an eternity. At that moment, time seemed to stand still, and all I could do was wait and hope for the best.