Page 43 of Saved By the Firefighter

I wish I shared his faith. "It's not just Marcus. I'm not ready for this, Elijah. I can't lose someone else." My voice cracks, shame burning my cheeks. "Can't decide if I'm just chasing something because it feels good or if it's real. And Charlotte..." The thought of my daughter getting caught in the crossfire makes my chest tighten.

"Oh, Jake." His voice softens, and I stare at the scuffed toes of my boots so I don't have to meet his gaze. "Finding happiness again doesn't mean letting go of Sarah. You're allowed to love more than once.”

It’s hard to tell him this, but my time with Ellie has opened my heart. At least a little. So I take a breath and admit, "I’m scared of forgetting her.” The words are raw inside my throat.

"Finding happiness again isn't betraying Sarah," Elijah says softly. "It's living the life she'd want for you. For Charlotte. Didn’t you say Charlotte really likes Ellie?”

I nod, crossing my arms. Ellie was completely unexpected in my life, and yet she came in and gave both me and Charlotte something we’d been lacking: joy. I haven’t seen my baby that happy in a long time, but Char beams every time Ellie is near.

But what if, in the long run, I can’t be the man Ellie needs? If I open myself up to her, then I also open myself up to pain and loss. Of making mistakes and hurting her.

Though it seems I’ve already been hurting her plenty from all this running away I’ve done.

Elijah watches me for a moment, almost like he can see the jumble of thoughts in my head. Then he puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Ellie isn't asking you to forget Sarah or to become someone else. She's asking for a chance to build something new with you.”

His words are a balm to the turmoil inside me. For so long, I've clung to my grief like a shield, using it to ward off any chance of experiencing loss again. But in doing so, I've also shielded myself from the warmth of new love, the kind that Ellie offers.

“Listen up!” the chief says, walking into the main living area.

His bellow interrupts before I can respond, and I'm almost grateful for the reprieve as Elijah and I have to focus on work, trying to listen intently as the chief goes over more drills we need to do this afternoon. The entire time, I’m going over Elijah’s words in the back of my mind—Ellie’s too—and I know they’re both right.

It’s okay to move on. I just wish it wasn’t so painful.

When the chief is done, before we spring into action, I give Elijah a nod. “Thanks for the advice.”

"Anytime, brother." He claps my back once more before we turn to join the others.

When I return home to the ranch that evening—the duplex is too painful to stay at right now—I find Charlotte sprawled on the living room floor doing homework with the babysitter. She looks up at the sound of the door, her face lighting in a smile.

"Daddy!" She scrambles up and throws her arms around me. I cling to her warmth, the sweet scent of her shampoo chasing away the lingering smoke in my nostrils from all the drills today.

Pulling back, I do my best attempt at a serious face, which I know she can see right through.

"I've got a question for you, sweetheart," I begin, her curious eyes locked onto mine. "Why can't you give Elsa a balloon?" I pause for dramatic effect, watching as she tilts her head.

"I don't know, why?"

"Because she will...let it go.”

Charlotte bursts into giggles, then she rolls her eyes like I don’t know how to make good jokes. She’s been a bit glum these past several weeks, so I’m glad to see her light up again.

The babysitter gathers her things, accepting the cash I press into her hands. "Thank you, Jake. Have a good evening."

“You too, Maggie. Drive safe.”

Once she’s gone, I look back to Charlotte and those eyes that are so like her mother’s. “How was school today?”

"Good! We did art. Miss Peterson said my painting was creative."

“Oh? What was it?”

“Mountains. I put it on the fridge.” She bounces on her toes for a moment. “Will you read to me for bed?”

I check my watch. She’s right, almost bedtime. It was a long day today. “Of course. You get ready and give me some time to eat.”

She nods, running off down the hall. I take a quick shower and change. Then I head to the kitchen, taking a moment to smile at her drawing of mountains behind a green meadow. I can see why the teacher called it creative—she filled the sky with lots of UFOs and what looks to be a griffin. Chuckling to myself, I heat up some leftovers and wolf them down before finding her in her room.

I push open her bedroom door to find her sitting cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by an army of stuffed animals. The sight yanks a tired smile onto my face. She’s already in her nightgown, waiting patiently for me with a book.

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