Page 37 of Scorched Hearts

The rest of the way back to the firehouse was spent in silence.

Back home, Elle could finally change, and the scent of fresh clothes made her feel cleaner, more whole. She wanted to check the news coverage of Maria’s death but changed her mind. She didn’t need to see what others were saying. She’d been there. She knew everything she had to, and now she simply had to forget it all.

She found a bottle of whiskey in the fridge. p Perfect, she thought while settling on her couch. Her limbs felt heavy and sore, as if gravity had doubled and was keeping her glued to the spot. The ice in her glass popped, a familiar, lonely sound, and she finally, truly felt at home.

Until her ringtone cut through the silence. She let the sharp, steady ringing sound around the house for a while. She sank deeper into the couch, knowing that sooner or later she had to pick up, but not just yet.

The ringing ceased.

“Fuck this.” Elle grunted, getting up to get to the phone. It was Maya. Elle decided to call back.

“Hi,” she said when Maya picked up in the span of a second.

“Hey,” she heard Maya’s eager, though tired, voice. “I wanted to ask how you’re feeling after yesterday.”

“Are you at work?”

“I’m on a break, but yes, I’ll be working until late.”

Elle exhaled, thinking how much she wanted to be completely honest with Maya, and on the other hand, how weak that would make her feel. She didn’t know how to have this conversation.

“So, how are you?”

“Had a bit of tension with Hunter today,” Elle admitted despite herself.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?” Maya’s voice was so patient that Elle’s own thoughts became less confused and tangled. She felt ready to tell her everything.

“I guess I’m… I wasn’t very attentive today. I don’t know why I can’t get a grip. I don’t hear people well, and I keep drifting away.”

“Elle, this is serious. You can’t be working in this state, you know that?”

Elle shook her head violently. “No, don’t say that. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

“Oh, honey.” Maya sighed. Elle felt strange, hearing all these mannerisms and words directed at her again, as if they’d gone back in time, as if the past years hadn’t happened. “It’s not your fault for feeling this way. It’s a completely normal reaction. You can’t control it.”

Elle sat down, not knowing what to say anymore. She felt as if she’d stepped into quicksand out of which no one could help her out. “I’d like to just forget about all this, go back to the way it was.”

“You’ll feel better with time, but you need to take it slowly now.”

“I can’t, Maya. I have to work. I don’t get special treatment, I wasn’t the only one there.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. You’re a danger to yourself and others now.” Maya’s voice grew suddenly stern. “You have to take a break.”

“What did you just say?” Elle was shocked.

“You’re a brilliant firefighter, Elle, and the strongest person I know. But you’ve been traumatized by what happened and can’t focus. Isn’t that deadly in your line of work?”

Elle took a few gulps of whiskey. She knew Maya was right, and she knew that arguing with her would prove utterly useless. But she also felt that admitting to that, admitting that she couldn’t work, would put her in an impossible position, threatening everything she’d worked so hard for.

“I don’t want to argue with you,” she said quietly.

“I don’t want you to keep being afraid of seeming weak. Having problems is not being weak, Elle, ignoring them is. I thought you’d work that out by the time you were thirty.”

“Whatever. If I can’t open up to you, just say it,” Elle threw into the conversation carelessly, feeling that to expect a good outcome out of this conversation would be like tossing a six-sided die and praying for a seven.

“That’s manipulative.”

They fell silent. Elle was afraid of that word, afraid of seeming like her father, behaving like him. She knew she could sometimes, and she knew she did it now.

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