Page 35 of Where There's Smoke…
“Angelica Reneé Savoie, you better not finish that sentence,” she says, pulling away from me. I stare at her in shock, my jaw on the floor. She wipes her eyes before looking at me. “I told you before that I’m not going anywhere. Anxiety be damned.”
“Wait,” I wave my hands frantically. “How in the hell do you know my full name?”
She looks at me sideways before shaking her head. “Sweets, we’ve been dating for months. We’ve said I love youdozensof times. What would make you think I didn’t know your full name?”
“Y-You never call me by it.”
“That’s because I respect your privacy,” she tells me before smiling softly. “I saw your name on your license one day, but I knew that Angel was what everyone called you, so that’s what I call you. Although you know I prefer to call you Sweets anyway. I apologize for using it, though. I just wanted you to know how serious I was.”
“Thank you,” I squeak, blinking back tears. “For not using it all this time, even though you knew it.” I sigh. “After my parents passed, I started to go by Angel because it’s the nickname they gave me. I wouldn’t answer to anything except that, and eventually, that’s what everyone, even my teachers and friends, were calling me. I only use Angelica for legal documents because I don’t want to completely change it. I like it, but I’ve always preferred Angel more.”
“You’re good, Sweets,” she assures me. She stands and steps out of her shoes. “Now, scooch over so I can hold you as you sleep.”
“This bed is not big enough for both of us,” I manage a laugh, but she waves me off.
“That’s okay. I like having you right up under me anyway.”
I couldn’t argue with her because I knew that whenever we slept together, there was barely any space between us. So, I scooted over to make room for her, and she squeezed her long, muscular frame into the bed with me. She wrapped her arm around me as best as she could with the cast she was wearing, and soon we were cuddled underneath the thin blanket, staring into each other’s eyes. I felt a wave of calm wash over us as our breathing and heartbeats synced.
“I love you, Sweets,” she whispers before kissing me gently. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I love you, too,” I assure her. I bury my face into her chest and breathe in her comforting scent. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”
She doesn’t reply but kisses my forehead once more. It didn’t take long for sleep to creep back up on me, and soon, I was drifting off to sleep once again. I was definitely gonna be well-rested by the time I got out of this hospital.
13
Where There’s Regrets...
Phoenix“Phee”Preston-August 31st, 2025
I stare up at the ceiling as the events from last week replay over and over again. I couldn’t believe that I’d been close to death, but more importantly, I couldn’t believe that the love of my life had almost lost hers as well. I wouldn’t have been able to live if that were the case.
I should’ve followed her out and made sure she was safe instead of going back and forth with her. I could have literally avoided all this had I done what I was trained to do. I’d never been injured on the job, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.
After the others managed to get up out of the smoke-filled room, I was immediately ushered to a different ambulance than Angel, much to my dismay. On the ride to the hospital, all I could think about was getting to her and making sure that she was okay. I didn’t care that the doctors needed to set my wrist and put it in a cast. I didn’t care that I needed to rest and take a breathing treatment because of the amount of smoke I inhaled. I didn’t care about any of that shit.
All I cared about was going to check on Angel.
Nobody would update me on her condition, and it took two days for me to be discharged from the hospital. I immediately made my way to the room where I was told she was staying. However, I was not prepared for what I walked into…
Seeing her connected to so many machines scared the shit out of me. I’m not a medical professional, so I could only believe them when they assured me she was fine. I knew that she had a history of respiratory issues from the many conversations about what to do if ever it flared up again while we were together.
My heart broke into pieces when I realized that she was unconscious. When I spoke to her doctor, he informed me that it was taking longer for her to recover because she was already burned out from before the accident. Her body was finally catching up with her and making up for all of the rest she’d missed out on.
All I could do was drop into the chair beside the bed and take her hand in mine. In my head, I fussed at her because I’d been telling her she needed to slow down. I’d been telling her that those coffees wouldn’t replace sleep. I’d been telling her that she needed to take a step back from trying to do everything by herself.
When she told me that most of her staff were out sick, I thought for sure that she was going to take a few days off, but I should’ve known better. I’ve never met a more hardworking person, and while I admire it, the fire proved that sometimes she just needed to take a minute. Butas I sat there and watched her sleep peacefully, any anger I had slowly washed away.
Instead, it was replaced with that crippling anxiety I always got when I was at a hospital. Seeing her hooked up to all of those machines brought back memories that I wish I could forget, but as much as I wanted to run away, I couldn’t leave her. No matter how much the discomfort piled up in my heart, I stayed planted in that seat, day and night.
Her brothers had to practically force me to take a break, eat, and shower. I was so terrified that if I left her, she’d somehow get worse, even though the doctor said that she was past the worst of it. I was only able to calm my anxiety once she’d woken up.
I was shocked that she wanted me to leave, but I wasn’t about to do that shit. I knew exactly how she was feeling, because I felt the same. We both were affected by the events, but I refused to leave until we talked, and talked we did. We laid everything out on the table that first night and the day after. It was safe to say that we were in a better place now.
However, I hadn’t seen her in person in about two days. After learning about my anxiety surrounding hospitals, she was adamant about me taking a break away from the hospital and worrying about her. She claimed that I needed time to decompress and that she didn’t want me to be uncomfortable, but she didn’t understand that I didn’t care how uncomfortable I was as long as she was good.
“That’s not how this works, Phee,” she sighed, shaking her head. “You’re not allowed to sacrifice this much for me.”
