Page 42 of Blazing Hearts

“I… I love you,” Mallory whispered, the words soft but heavy, full of hesitation, full of everything she’d never been brave enough to say. “I should have told you sooner,” she said, the words spilling out, as if they were all the things she had been holding inside, things she had been too afraid to say until now. “I love you, Kara. I’ve loved you for a long time, and I… I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

There was a long pause, the quiet of the room suddenly more pronounced. Mallory held her breath, terrified that her words had been too much, too soon. That she had laid herself too bare, just as Kara was still recovering from the ordeal that had nearly taken her life.

But Kara didn’t look away. Her golden brown eyes, heavy with exhaustion and pain, softened with something else—something that Mallory recognized. Understanding. Her heart raced as she waited for Kara’s response, the silence between them stretched thin with anticipation. Her eyes never left Kara’s face, watching the faintest flicker of emotion cross her features. Her breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening as if waiting for something—anything—that would tell her Kara had heard her, had felt it too.

And then, just as the quiet began to suffocate her, Kara’s lips curled into a slow, gentle smile.

“I love you too,” Kara replied, her voice low but filled with a quiet certainty. Her eyes, though weary, were bright with something Mallory recognized immediately. It was the same look she’d seen before—the same look that had drawn her in, made her heart race, and made her realize that this woman, no matter the circumstances, had become the most important person in her life.

Mallory’s heart swelled at the words. They were simple, but in that moment, they were everything. They were a balm for the wounds she hadn’t even known she was carrying.

Kara’s voice was soft but steady when she finally spoke again, her words wrapped in the warmth of something much more than just reassurance. “I don’t want you to be afraid anymore either, Mallory.”

Kara’s smile was small, fragile from the pain in her body, but it was there. It was real. And it was everything. She squeezed Mallory’s hand, the gesture filled with so much more than just the act of holding on. It was a promise. A reassurance. A silent acknowledgment of what Mallory had just said.

She inhaled deeply, her fingers tightening around Kara’s hand, grounding herself in the reality of the moment. All the fear, all the hesitation, all the doubts that had plagued her heart over the past few days seemed to dissolve. This was real. They were real. And for the first time, Mallory could breathe easily, knowing that whatever came next, they would face it together.

The weight of the past few days, the fire, the fear of losing Kara, the uncertainty that had plagued both of them, seemed to lift with that simple exchange of words. They were no longer hiding from the truth. They had crossed that threshold, and there was no going back.

Kara’s fingers, though still weak, grasped Mallory’s hand more tightly, pulling her a little closer. Her smile deepened, despite the exhaustion that still clung to her.

“Mallory,” Kara said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “I was scared too. But now, now I’m not. Not with you.” She paused, the words coming slowly, carefully. “We don’t know what’s coming. We don’t know what the future holds, but we’ll face it. Together.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Kara. I’m not afraid of us. I’m just afraid of losing it… losing you.”

“You won’t lose me. I’m here. We’re here.” She winced slightly, the pain sharp in her leg, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, her eyes softened, filled with that same quiet strength that Mallory had come to admire. “We’ll face whatever happens. But we will face it together. That’s what matters.”

Mallory’s breath hitched again, a sob threatening to rise in her chest, but she held it back. She didn’t need to say anything else. Kara had already said it. They were in this together. And that was enough.

The room felt different now. The sterile walls, the machines, the faint hum of hospital life outside—it all faded into the background. There was only Kara. Only Mallory. Only the quiet, steadfast bond that had formed between them, something unspoken but undeniable. They were a team, a unit, facing whatever came next with the strength of their love and trust for each other.

Kara’s eyes closed briefly, her exhaustion overwhelming, but she didn’t let go of Mallory’s hand. Instead, she squeezed it once more, the final sign of her unwavering promise. “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, her voice rough but full of resolve. “We’re in this. Together.”

Mallory nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips, her heart full of hope for the first time in a long while. “Together,” she whispered back.

And for the first time, Mallory believed it completely.

18

MALLORY

Mallory couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this kind of peace. Her mind, usually full of patients, surgeries, and her own internal monologue, was quieter than usual. It had been a few weeks since Kara had been discharged from the hospital, and though the memory of the warehouse fire still lingered—both in the city and in her own heart—there was something soothing about this time. Kara was out of the hospital, still healing but alive. She was with Mallory, and for now, that was enough.

Despite the serenity of the drive, Mallory couldn’t help but feel the slight weight in her chest, a mixture of gratitude and anxiety. She’d been a surgeon long enough to know that recovery wasn’t always linear. Though Kara seemed strong on the outside, Mallory knew she was still recovering—physically and emotionally—from the trauma of the fire. They were both still processing what had happened, but the quiet moments like this one made it easier to breathe, to remind herself that they could face the future together.

Kara, her focus entirely on the road, was in much better spirits than Mallory had seen her in weeks. Her posture was relaxed, and her hand on the wheel was steady. She looked like herself again—no longer weighed down by pain or the exhaustion from the hospital. She was smiling more, and the careworn expression that had been present in the aftermath of the fire seemed to have lifted, at least for now.

“You okay?” Kara asked after a while, her eyes glancing over at Mallory with an affectionate smile.

Mallory nodded, though she wasn’t sure the answer was as simple asyes. She wanted to be present, to let herself enjoy this peaceful moment, but old habits died hard. The doctor in her still watched Kara with a careful eye, making sure she didn’t push too hard too soon. But as Kara’s grin widened, the carefree ease she wore reminded Mallory of the woman she’d first met—determined and full of life, a little wild but always strong.

“I’m good,” Mallory finally said, giving Kara a soft smile in return. “This place—it’s perfect.”

Kara’s smile widened, and her fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel. “Told you,” she said, almost smug. “I come here to clear my head, you know. It’s always been my spot.”

They continued driving in silence for a few more minutes before Kara pulled the car into a small, hidden parking area by the edge of an old boardwalk leading to a pier. The trees around them were thick, blocking the view from any other passersby, and the sand stretched out ahead of them in wide, uninterrupted swaths. The soft rumble of the ocean was a stark contrast to the noise that had filled their lives before—sirens, alarms, urgent shouts—everything that seemed to be ever-present now seemed far away.

Mallory stepped out of the car and immediately took a deep breath. The air felt different here—fresh, untarnished by the pollution or rush of the city. It was like stepping into another world, one where none of the worries or uncertainties of life could reach them. For the first time in a while, Mallory felt her shoulders relax, her mind calming as the horizon stretched endlessly before her.

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