Page 20 of Blazing Hearts

But she quickly turned away, her pulse pounding in her ears. She couldn’t afford to let herself get lost in that moment, in that connection. Not now. Not when everything was already so complicated.

As she moved toward the exit, it felt like everything around them slowed down. Her footsteps echoed in the hallway, and for a moment, it was just her and Kara, separated by only a few feet but worlds apart in every other way. Mallory’s heart beat faster as she heard Kara’s voice from behind her, soft and tentative.

“I’ll see you around, Mallory.”

Mallory’s breath caught in her throat. She stopped, feeling like the ground had shifted beneath her feet. The words were so simple, yet they felt like a weight. Mallory turned slowly, her eyes locking with Kara’s once more. There was a long moment of silence between them, a pause where nothing else existed except the two of them. Mallory could see the longing in Kara’s eyes, the same ache that mirrored her own. But Mallory couldn’t say what she wanted to. She couldn’t allow herself to say what she really felt.

“Yeah,” Mallory said, her voice steady, though her heart was anything but. “Take care, Kara.”

The words were clipped, professional. She hated herself for saying them that way, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything else. The ache inside her only deepened, and she knew that this—this goodbye—was the only thing she could offer Kara. It was the only thing that felt safe. The only thing that made sense.

As Mallory walked away, she felt the weight of the unresolved feelings between them. It was a familiar ache, one that had been with her for so long that it had become a part of her. But this—this was different. This wasn’t just about fear or caution. It was about something real. Something that Mallory didn’t know how to face.

She stepped into the elevator, the doors closing behind her, but the tension still lingered in the air. It hung on her like a second skin. She felt as though she would never be able to escape it, no matter how far she ran.

* * *

Mallory’s shift had been grueling. The hospital was a flurry of motion, with patients, staff, and the occasional interruption of beeping machines or the pounding of feet against linoleum floors. Mallory had done her best to push everything aside—every stray thought, every lingering emotion. But no matter how many cases she treated or how many charts she signed, her mind kept returning to Kara. The brief, electric moments they had shared haunted her. She had convinced herself that walking away was the right choice, that it was necessary. But the ache in her chest, the gnawing doubt, told a different story.

She was walking through the quiet hallway between ER rooms, taking a moment to catch her breath, when a voice snapped her from her thoughts.

“Mallory.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she froze, recognizing the voice immediately. She hadn’t heard it in a while, but it was unmistakable. Ember.

Mallory turned, the mix of emotions flooding her all at once—anger, regret, and, strangely, a rush of familiarity. Ember stood in front of her, looking almost the same as she remembered—her wild red hair tied back in a loose ponytail, her muscular build covered in a plain t-shirt and jeans. There was something commanding about her stance, even here in the sterile halls of a hospital. She exuded the same strength Mallory had once admired.

“Ember,” Mallory said, her voice stiff, betraying none of the turbulence inside her. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling—surprised, unsettled, maybe even a bit angry that Ember would show up like this, unannounced.

Ember didn’t waste time with pleasantries. Her eyes were sharp, focused on Mallory with the same intensity she’d always had. “Heard a few things about you and Kara Brandon,” Ember said, voice casual but with a hint of something beneath it—something Mallory couldn’t quite place. “Scotti’s been talking. You’re avoiding her, huh?”

Mallory felt her chest tighten, and she immediately became defensive. “I don’t know what Scotti told you, but it’s none of your business.”

Ember’s smirk faded, and she pushed herself off the wall, stepping closer. “It’sexactlymy business, Mallory. I’m not here to play nice. I know you, and I know how you operate. You’re running from something real.” Ember’s eyes narrowed, her voice softening with purpose. “I see it in you. I see you running from Kara.”

Mallory felt her stomach flip. She didn’t want to deal with this, didn’t want to face the fact that Ember might be right. But something inside her recoiled at the thought of Ember—of anyone—telling her what to do with her life.

She folded her arms defensively, taking a step back. “You have no right to judge me, Ember. You walked away from me when I needed you the most all those years ago. Youleft. Don’t act like you have the moral high ground now.”

The words came out cold, and Mallory felt the weight of them the moment they left her lips. But she didn’t take them back. Not yet. Not when the past still felt like a jagged scar, still fresh beneath the surface.

Ember didn’t flinch. She just stared at Mallory, her expression unreadable. For a moment, Mallory thought Ember might leave, but instead, Ember stepped closer, the warmth of her presence unmistakable. She wasn’t backing down.

“I’m not here to make you feel small,” Ember said quietly. “But I’m not going to let you destroy another chance at something real either. Kara is a great girl. I think you two would be really good together.” Her tone was firm, but there was a sadness there too, an understanding that Mallory wasn’t ready to admit.

Mallory opened her mouth to argue again, but Ember raised her hand to stop her. “I’m not done.” Ember’s voice was sharp, but her gaze softened slightly. “I’ve heard about your whole situation with Kara. You’ve been avoiding it, pushing her away, running from it.”

Mallory felt heat rise in her chest. She knew Ember was right—knew that every time she had been near Kara, the pull had been there, undeniable. But it was easier to push it aside, to tell herself that she had been doing the right thing. She had told herself it was for the best. She wasn’t ready to open herself up to the possibility of getting hurt again.

“I’m not running from anything,” Mallory replied, though she could hear the crack in her voice. “I just… I’m not interested. It’s not the right time. It’s better this way.”

Ember’s expression softened even further, and she sighed, as if Mallory’s words didn’t surprise her. “Bullshit,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re scared, Mallory. You’re terrified of getting hurt again, and that fear is holding you back. It’s holding you hostage.”

Mallory’s jaw tightened. “You don’t know what it’s like,” she said quietly, though she wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Ember, or herself.

“I do,” Ember replied, her voice low and steady. “I’ve been there. I’ve been so scared of losing someone that I shut myself off from the possibility of anything real. And you know what happened? I lost everything. Because I was too afraid to face my own fear.” She took a step closer, her voice growing softer. “I didn’t fight for you, Mallory. And while I don’t regret how that ended up working out, I do regret hurting you. But I’m telling you right now, you can’t keep letting that fear control you. You’ll lose something real with Kara, and that’s on you.”

Mallory’s chest tightened, the weight of Ember’s words landing squarely in her gut. She wanted to argue, to deny it, but a part of her—deep down—knew Ember was right. She had been running. She had been holding herself back because she was scared of feeling that hurt again. Scared of losing someone else.

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