Page 18 of Blazing Hearts

But as she stood there, the emptiness of the apartment swallowing her whole, Mallory couldn’t escape the feeling that she had made a mistake. There was a hollowness inside her now, one she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she told herself it was the right choice.I had to protect myself, she thought again, but it sounded less convincing now. The ache in her chest sharpened, and her hands instinctively curled into fists as if trying to hold herself together.

She slowly walked back to the kitchen counter, the place where the conversation had turned, and where everything had shifted. The remnants of their breakfast—the half-drunk coffee cups, the untouched plate—felt like a cruel reminder of what she had lost. What she could’ve had, if only she hadn’t been so afraid. She ran her fingers over the edge of the counter, her thoughts swirling.I just couldn’t risk it.

But how could she turn her back on someone who made her feel something she hadn’t felt in years? Kara had been different—so easy to be with, so effortlessly kind. Actually so very different to Ember. For a brief moment, Mallory had dared to imagine a future without the constant fear. But now that dream felt so far away.Maybe I should’ve tried harder. Maybe I should’ve been braver.

But bravery had never been Mallory’s strong suit when it came to matters of the heart. She had loved Ember with everything she had, and in the end, it wasn’t enough. The fear of losing her had been a constant companion, one that Mallory couldn’t shake. And now it was back, alive and present, wrapped around every thought, every moment.I just can’t live like that again.

The silence felt louder now, oppressive. The apartment felt too small, too empty. She wondered if she’d ever be able to fill the space with anything other than the ghost of what could have been.

6

KARA

Kara walked away from Mallory’s apartment, each step feeling heavier than the last. She didn’t try to stop Mallory, didn’t argue. There was no point. Mallory’s decision was final, and Kara knew it. It was in the way Mallory turned her back, the way the words had come out so decisively, with no room for negotiation.

The world outside felt cold, the wind biting as it rushed past her. She pulled her jacket tighter around her, but it didn’t do much to ward off the chill that had settled deep in her bones. As she walked, her mind replayed the conversation, each word echoing like a drumbeat in her chest.I can’t go through that again.It’s dangerous.

Kara swallowed, the lump in her throat almost too big to bear.She’s afraid. I get that. But damn…Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, and she forced herself to breathe, to calm the storm inside. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. She hadn’t expected Mallory to pull away so quickly, so decisively.

Why does she have to do this?Kara’s thoughts were a whirlwind.Why can’t she just see that I’m not like Ember Thompson at all?

The anger bubbled up now, mixed with a heavy sense of defeat.I won’t promise I’ll stop being a firefighter.That was the truth. It was her life, her calling. She had no control over it, and the idea of giving it up just to fit into Mallory’s version of safety felt impossible. But it wasn’t just about her job, was it? Mallory had made up her mind, and nothing Kara could say would change it.Maybe I never had a chance.

Her heart ached, but it was a dull, resigned pain. She had wanted to be with Mallory. She had wanted to let this connection grow, to see where it might lead. But the truth was, she couldn’t be anything other than who she was—and that meant living with the danger that came with her job. She knew that wasn’t something everyone could handle. It wasn’t something Mallory could handle.

As she reached her car, she stopped for a moment, letting out a shaky breath.I can’t make her understand,Kara thought.I can’t change her fears. I can’t change what she’s been through.

She slid into the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel tightly, her heart heavy with the knowledge that this—us—was over before it really began.

Kara started the engine, but she didn’t drive off immediately. She sat there for a few moments, staring ahead, the weight of Mallory’s words settling deeper in her chest. The tears were there, just beneath the surface, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she focused on the road ahead, the emptiness of it all pressing down on her, reminding her that she was alone now.

* * *

The sound of sirens wailing echoed through the streets, slicing through the calm of the early morning. Kara’s focus was razor-sharp, her grip steady on the stretcher as she and Scotti, her trusted partner, hurried the injured patient into the emergency room. The man was barely conscious, his face pale with shock, blood staining his shirt where the wound lay deep. Every breath he took was shallow, labored.

“Get him to Trauma One!” shouted a nurse as they barreled through the doors, and Kara nodded sharply, never breaking stride. She could hear Scotti behind her, talking to the doctors and nurses, relaying the details of the injury.

The patient was whisked away to an area of the ER where more staff were ready. As the team continued to work, the low hum of hospital activity surrounded her. The incessant beeping of machines, the rush of nurses coming and going, the hushed conversations between doctors—everything blended together in a symphony of controlled chaos. Kara stayed close to the patient, her attention divided between him and the growing sense of awareness that something else was drawing her attention.

It was a feeling that hit her without warning, the flutter in her chest that she recognized immediately.

Mallory.

She didn’t need to search for her—she knew exactly where Mallory would be. She saw her even before Mallory looked up from the clipboard she was scribbling on. It was a momentary flicker of recognition. Kara’s heart skipped, a visceral reaction to the sight of Mallory in her scrubs, her beautiful red hair tied back neatly, but there was something else. Mallory was so immersed in her work, yet Kara saw the brief, unexpected pause in her movements. It was subtle, but it was there—an instinctual hesitation.

Kara’s breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, the noise of the ER seemed to dull, the world around her shrinking to just Mallory, her presence so magnetic that it drew Kara in despite the chaos. Mallory’s eyes met hers, and time seemed to stretch. There was no mistaking the look Mallory gave her: surprise, yes, but also something else. Something that Kara couldn’t place—a mixture of uncertainty and perhaps vulnerability, as if Mallory wasn’t quite sure how to handle this sudden reunion after everything that had happened between them.

Kara’s chest tightened at the thought of their last interaction—the unspoken words, the hurt that still lingered. She should have expected this moment. After all, the world was small, especially in Phoenix Ridge. But even knowing this, it didn’t make the tension in the air any less palpable. It was there between them, hanging thick, an invisible line that separated them, a boundary they both knew they couldn’t cross—not yet.

For a second, neither of them moved. Mallory’s professional mask was back in place, but Kara could see it—just beneath the surface—flickers of something more. And it made Kara ache. She hated how it felt, like she was holding her breath, waiting for Mallory to speak, to break the silence that stretched between them. But Mallory didn’t speak, didn’t make a move to bridge the gap.

Instead, Kara felt herself step back, trying to respect the space between them. She had to keep things professional. But even as she gave her full focus to the task at hand, she could feel Mallory’s eyes on her, watching, waiting. Kara didn’t dare look at her again, but she felt the weight of her gaze like a physical presence, tugging at her with each passing moment.

Scotti, ever the perceptive one, seemed to sense the shift in the room. She noticed the quiet exchange between Kara and Mallory, the way they locked eyes before Kara hurriedly turned her back. She didn’t miss the tension that was thickening the space around them, and she couldn’t resist. Her easy smile broke through the seriousness of the moment as she nudged Kara lightly with her elbow.

“Not going to chase after her, Kara? I thought you were all about the chase,” she teased, her voice low enough that only Kara could hear. Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and Kara groaned inwardly, wishing she would just drop it. But Scotti wasn’t one to back down.

She didn’t have time to argue with her. Not now, not with a life hanging in the balance. So she simply shot her a quick look—sharp and almost apologetic—before focusing back on the patient. She kept her movements quick, keeping her thoughts from wandering.

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