The Name Behind the Firefighter

Chapter One

Mariah

My brother Stefan and his stunning bride, Claire, exchange vows beneath a cascading arrangement of white roses and shimmering lights, and I stand below them.

A hum of laughter and congratulatory whispers surrounds me. The soft murmurs of well-dressed guests seem to dance in the air. The officiant speaks, and I smile, but my heart is tethered to a weight that won’t lift.

Stefan’s voice is steady, and I focus on his soft baritone. “I promise to love you unconditionally,” he declares, and I can see Claire’s eyes glisten with unshed tears.

I want to know that kind of joy—that kind of certainty—but the memory of my ex-boyfriend’s betrayal chews at the sides of my brain. I blink away the heat rising in my eyes and swallow hard.

My reverie shakes with the clink of glasses. Across the beautifully decorated venue, I glance at faces I recognize—old friends, distant relatives, and the kind of acquaintances who latch onto my brother like krill to a humpback.

The weight of their gazes moves in my direction, maybe judging the solemnity I can’t quite hide.

“Mariah! Come over here!”

Across the room, my mother is beckoning to me, a bright smile on her face, unaware of the storm brewing inside me. I approach her, plastering on a smile and taking a deep breath.

“You look lovely, sweetheart,” she says, her eyes sparkling with pride. I nod, feigning excitement, but something in my chest feels constricted.

“Thanks, Mom. You too.” I look around at the crowd, searching for a familiar face.

I don’t want to think about the ache in my heart, but what happened with Michael taints every moment. Not only did he leave me, but he left me for Amara, my colleague and former friend—a betrayal that cut deeper than I would have thought possible.

“Let’s take some pictures!” Mom insists, dragging me toward the makeshift photo booth rigged up nearby. I pretend to be happy, but all the while, I’m a hollow shell.

Click, click, click.

The camera captures smiles that don’t quite reach my eyes. In the distance, I see Stefan’s best man, an old friend of ours named Ethan. His dark hair is tousled, and he’s smiling with a group of men. I hope for a momentary escape through conversation and move closer.

“Mariah! Wow, you look stunning!” Ethan’s eyes twinkle with a mischievous light as he greets me. “What’s your secret? Are you hiding a new boyfriend under that dress?”

I chuckle, even though I don’t feel the joke. “If only,” I reply, attempting to sound casual. “Just keeping it simple.”

He raises a brow and leans closer. “I’m still waiting to hear what happened with Michael. You can’t mope in the corner forever, you know?”

I shake my head. “Not tonight, Ethan. Tonight is for Stefan. That’s all that matters.” I point at the couple laughing in the room, but it feels fragile, like the delicate glassware on the table.

His brow creases as he watches me. “You can’t pretend everything is fine, Mariah. I know you, and this isn’t—”

“I’m fine,” I insist loudly, wishing he’d just drop it. The way heads turn, judging and staring at me with curious glances, makes me cringe. “I just need . . . some time.”

After that, I move away, the look on my face heavy from their gazes still focused on me. I need air and time to breathe—time away from the whirling clamor of people and the choked-out laughter.

As I step off the patio, the cool evening breeze hugs me. The soft string lights above dim everything but the calm atmosphere. I exhale deeply, the air cooling my lungs.

This should be a celebration, not a reminder of all I’ve lost. The flickering fairy lights are blurred by unshed tears threatening to spill. Shaking my head and wiping my eyes, I try to dispel the darkness creeping in.

I’m still standing outside, breathing in the cool night air, trying to find myself when I feel someone near me. I turn slightly and see he’s the tall stranger from earlier. He approaches closer, relaxed yet ready, as though he belongs here in this place of glitter.

“Still holding up, okay?” he asks, his voice smooth and inviting.

I nod and take another deep breath. “Yeah, just needed a moment. When the family gets together like this, there is this onslaught of memories . . . It’s just a lot today.”

He looks to the side—at me—and leans against the railing. “I get that. Weddings are tough, alright. Especially when you’re not the one tying the knot.”

I don’t know why he felt the need to say that. His words make me pull a reluctant smile, another exhausting one.

“You have no idea,” I reply, my voice carrying a hint of sarcasm. “Then there’s my ex, engaged to my former best friend. I’m really excited to be here.”

He raises an eyebrow in interest. “That sounds like a real piece of work—your ex, I mean. He sounds like a douche. Perhaps you need a plan for revenge.”

“Revenge?” I laugh, but it’s a little too loud, and the edge bares itself, even to me. “What do you suggest? I mess things up a little? I couldn’t possibly do that.” This time, my dry humor shines through.

He sits up and says, “I’m serious. Sometimes, we need a little vindictive closure to move on. I can help.”

I look at him, half surprised and half amused. “You’re offering to help me get even with my ex? Just like that? Why would you wanna do that?”

“Why not?” He shrugs, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “You look like you could use a partner in crime. Plus, I’m not doing anything important tonight.”

Something thrilling passes through me at his proposition. It’s almost as if the idea of teaming up with this fascinating stranger feels freeing. I’ve been so busy sulking about my ex that I never thought of getting even. And why shouldn’t I?

This idea feels like dipping my little toe into a world I’ve been too afraid to enter. In fact, I can already see the glint in his eyes. I wonder what we could pull off together.

“I know! Let’s crash my ex’s engagement party.” I spit out the words, fueled by the alcohol from earlier. “We’ll show up and act like we love each other and just have fun with it.” It’s an outrageous idea. I’d never have come up with one by myself, but this man has awakened something in me.

Obviously, my enthusiasm amuses him as he chuckles softly. “Now you’re talking. When’s this engagement party? I want in on the action,” he says.

“It’s also tonight,” I reply, the plan forming in my mind as I speak. “It’s at my ex’s house. All their friends and family are going to be there. This is going to be so good.”

“Perfect.” He leans closer and replies, “I’ll be your charming plus one, so we can teach two vile people a lesson.” He shoots a grin at me. “Hey, I didn’t catch your name,” he points out.

“Mariah,” I respond, feeling a flutter of excitement as our eyes connect.

“Nice to know you, Mariah. I’m Reuben.” He introduces himself, his smile widening as he extends his hand.

I shake his hand, and his grip feels warm in mine. Suddenly, it feels like the world around us tilts to focus. The laughter and music emanating from the venue fade into the background, and it seems like it’s just Reuben and me.

“So, uh . . . Mariah,” he continues, clearing his throat. His gaze is steady. “What’s the game plan? How do we make it seem like we are a thing? I mean, it’s one thing to sell it, but it’s another for them to buy it.”

The alcohol still buzzes in my veins, but I take a moment to think. “We’ll need a backstory. Maybe we met in a bar a few weeks ago and have been inseparable ever since?”

Reuben nods, deep in thought. “I love it, but we have to be convincing. Chemistry is key.”

“I can manage that,” I reply, a smirk playing at the corners of my lips. This intriguing man. The idea of pretending to be in a relationship with him is thrilling.

Surprisingly, all of this makes me feel better. It’s scandalous and exhilarating. He leans in closer, lowering his tone as if he can feel my excitement. “If we come across your ex, I’ll take care of it. Let me be your knight in shining armor, Mariah.”

The tension slips from my shoulders, and I can’t help but laugh. “Deal.” I agree, but something else comes to mind. “You’re too willingly devious, Reuben. Promise me you won’t get too carried away.”

His lips twist in a challenge, and I realize how much I want to know more about him. “Mariah,” he says, his tone serious but playful. “When it comes to revenge, I might just surprise you.”

At that sound, a cold shiver travels down my spine, thrilling and unsettling. I step back from the patio entrance and peer over my shoulder at Reuben, and a spark of energy begins to flicker.

Perhaps I won’t get just closure tomorrow. Perhaps I’ll even get to have fun, even if it’s just for a little bit.

Mingling among the crowd still present, I step inside once more, and the wedding festivities recede into the background. I shuffle into the compartment with the bridesmaids, their laughter loud, and I feign excitement again.