Page 17 of Blazing Hearts

For a moment, everything went quiet. The only sound was the rush of blood in Mallory’s ears as her mind raced. She wanted to run, to push Kara away before things got too complicated, before she let herself fall deeper into this thing between them. But she couldn’t seem to find her voice. Instead, she stood there, frozen, the weight of Kara’s words pressing down on her chest.

The words landed heavily between them, a seismic shift that Mallory wasn’t prepared for. Her mind went blank for a split second, her chest tightening as if she were being suffocated.Firefighter. The word echoed in her brain, reverberating with the force of a thousand bad memories, all those sleepless nights spent waiting for a phone call she never wanted to receive.

She had beensosure that Kara was different—that she wouldn’t remind her of Ember in the ways that really mattered. But now, hearing that Kara worked in the same dangerous profession, the world around her seemed to tilt on its axis. She could feel the panic rise in her throat, sharp and insistent, threatening to choke her. All she could think of was Ember—the way the world had once beensofragile when Ember was out on a call, the constant fear of losing her to some fire or accident that could change everything in an instant. She thought she had left that fear behind when she broke up with Ember. But here it was again, rising up, refusing to let her breathe.

Mallory’s hand trembled as she gripped the edge of the counter. Her mind raced with images, memories of Ember’s determined eyes before each shift, her unflinching resolve, and Mallory’s own internal battle as she tried not to let the fear paralyze her. It felt like she had been running from the consequences of loving someone who put their life on the line for a living. And now it was all crashing back in a way that was far too painful.

Why on earth hadn’t she asked what Kara’s job was earlier?

She inhaled sharply, trying to steady her breath, but it didn’t work. Kara was still sitting there, watching her with confusion in her kind brown eyes, not understanding what had just happened. Mallory could feel the tension in her muscles, the way her heart was beating faster, a drum pounding in her chest as if trying to drown out the memories. But it was impossible. The memories flooded her mind in waves.

Her feet moved before her mind could catch up, and she stood abruptly, not knowing if she was trying to run away from the suffocating thoughts or just distance herself from Kara. Her hands were shaking, and the apartment felt too small, too stifling. She paced across the room, her footsteps heavy as she tried to think clearly, but it was impossible. Her thoughts were all tangled up in fear and confusion, and she couldn’t seem to get a grip on herself. She could feel Kara’s gaze on her, though she couldn’t bring herself to meet it.

“Are you okay?” Kara’s voice broke through the noise in Mallory’s head. It was soft, hesitant, and Mallory could hear the concern in it. But she couldn’t focus on Kara right now, couldn’t process the fact that this was a conversation she had never imagined having.

Mallory’s voice cracked when she finally spoke, her words trembling as if they were forced out of her. “I… I can’t do this, Kara. I thought I could. I really did. But I can’t be with someone who does something dangerous for a living. I can’t go through that again. Not with you.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she felt a weight settle into her chest, like a stone that was too heavy to carry. It felt like her own voice was betraying her. Her heart sank with the realization that she was saying goodbye. And yet, it felt like the only thing she could do to protect herself from the fear that was threatening to consume her.

Kara’s confusion was clear as she stood up from her seat, stepping cautiously toward Mallory. There was hurt in her eyes, but there was also a deep uncertainty. She didn’t understand. Mallory could see that, could see her processing the words, trying to find the logic, the reasoning behind them. Kara stopped just short of her, looking like she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

“What do you mean?” Kara asked, her voice still soft, but now tinged with something else—hurt, confusion, maybe even frustration. “It’s just a job.”

But to Mallory, it wasneverjust a job. It was a constant threat. It was Ember walking out the door every morning all those years ago with no promise of returning. It was the dread, the hollow pit in her stomach that grew deeper with every call, every night spent lying awake, listening for the faint sound of a siren, praying it wasn’t her phone ringing with bad news. It was the realization that being with someone who constantly put themselves in harm’s way wasn’t something she could bear again. She had loved Ember. She had given everything to that relationship, only to watch it unravel under the weight of constant fear.

“I can’t, Kara,” Mallory said again, the words coming out sharp now, more forceful. “It’s not just a job. It’s… it’s dangerous. You’re putting your life at risk every single day, and I can’t stand the thought of losing someone I care about like I almost lost Ember. I can’t keep living in that fear. I can’t… I can’t be with someone who’s always in harm’s way.”

“Ember? You mean Ember Thompson? What are you talking about? What’s this got to do with her? You dated her?”

Mallory nodded. “Many years ago,” she said.

She could see the cogs beginning to turn in Kara’s mind.

“But I’m nothing like Ember. I respect Chief Becky and all that, and Ember’s my friend, but we’re nothing alike. Ember got hurt being stupid, she was always a reckless firefighter, and you should’ve heard the way Chief Becky ripped into her over it. That is why Ember isn’t a firefighter anymore. She’s too impulsive. I don’t take dumb risks like that. You know me, Mallory.”

Kara’s warm brown eyes looked at her hopefully. Mallory couldn’t let those puppy dog eyes melt her new resolve.

“I don’t think I do though, Kara. Anyone with your job takes risks. That’s the nature of the job.”

Her voice shook with the raw emotion she couldn’t contain anymore. The words felt like a jagged blade, slicing through the moment of quiet connection they had shared. It wasn’t what she wanted, but it was the truth, and she couldn’t stop herself from saying it. The walls that had been slowly coming down between them slammed shut again, rising higher, faster.

Kara’s face fell, and Mallory saw the shift in her expression. Her eyes softened, a flash of hurt crossing her features.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Mallory,” Kara said. “I’m not going to promise I’ll stop being a firefighter. I can’t change that, and I can’t pretend it’s not who I am. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. You know I do.”

Mallory swallowed hard; her chest tight with frustration. Her voice barely reached above a whisper, but there was a finality in it that she couldn’t undo. “I don’t want you to change. I just… I just need to walk away from this before it gets any worse. I can’t keep doing this to myself. I can’t get attached and risk watching you walk out that door every day, not knowing if you’ll come back. I just can’t.”

The finality of her words cut through the space between them, leaving a painful silence in their wake. Mallory turned her back to Kara, her shoulders slumping with the weight of what she had just said. It felt like a betrayal, like she was pushing away something she had wanted, but the fear was too strong, too real. The tension in her chest grew heavier, and she could feel her heart breaking with each second that passed. But she couldn’t take it back.

“I think it’s better if we don’t see each other again,” Mallory said, her voice barely audible, though the pain behind it was clear. “I’m sorry, Kara.”

The room was still, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of them. Kara didn’t move, didn’t speak, and Mallory felt her heart fracture a little more with every passing second.

* * *

The silence that filled the apartment after Kara left was suffocating. Mallory stood motionless; her eyes fixed on the empty space where Kara had been only moments ago. She heard the soft click of the door closing, and for some reason, it felt like an echo in the vast emptiness that now surrounded her. The weight of the decision she had just made pressed down on her chest, the ache settling deep in her bones.

Did I do the right thing?The question gnawed at her, but she quickly pushed it away. She had to believe she did. She had to believe that she had done the only thing she could do to protect herself. The fear that had been building inside her—unseen, unspoken, but ever-present—finally had a voice. It wasn’t just about Kara being a firefighter; it was about the fear that had haunted Mallory for years, ever since Ember Thompson. The fear of losing someone she cared about, of waiting for the inevitable phone call that would shatter her world. She couldn’t do it again, not with Kara.

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