Holding His Forever

“Ma’am, you need to put the mask on,” I hear the EMT tell her, but she keeps trying to push it away with her other hand, the other one still reaching for me. “I’m going with her,” I throw over my shoulder to Mitch.

“Sir,” he says. I turn and cut him off with a look.

“Take my shit.” I drop a few more things down onto my coat. I’m going. The building is clear, and the fire is out.

He just nods and does as he’s told. “You got this,” I tell him, because he does. He nods again and heads back to the truck. I turn and grab her hand.

“Put the mask on,” I say, leaning down next to her. Even through the smoke smell, I get the hint of peaches coming from her. Her skin looks as soft, and I can’t stop from moving my thumb on the hand that is holding hers. It’s as if I have to feel her to confirm what I was thinking.

Her full lips open just a little. “Don’t leave me,” she whispers before closing her eyes and passing out.

“Never.”

6

Phoenix

I hold her hand all the way to the hospital as the EMT checks her over. I watch each breath she takes, unable to look away from her. She hasn’t woken up by the time we get to the hospital, but they assure me she’s okay. I still can’t seem to not worry about her.

“Pulse is strong. Looks like she’s going to be fine. Probably just some minor smoke inhalation,” the EMT says, but I don’t even glance over at him. I’m physically unable to do so.

When the back doors open, they wheel her off, and I stay with her. I go all the way back until the nurses take over and pull her into an emergency area. One of the nurses looks at me and sees I’m a firefighter.

“Family?” she asks, raising an eyebrow in question.

I want to lie and say yes, but then she’ll probably start asking me questions, and I have no idea what to say. I don’t even know her name. This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done, and I don’t have any sort of explanation for it. I just walked off location. The fire was done and taken care off, but it still wasn’t protocol.

I let out a breath looking down at her and then back to the nurse. “No. But I have to stay with her.”

She must see in the plea in my eyes, and she nods.

“You can stay, but you’ll have to go to the other side of the curtain for a bit. There’s a seat in the hall. I’ll keep you updated.”

Giving my angel one last look, I let go of her hand and walk out into the hallway. Something in my chest aches, and I don’t want to leave her side. I can’t reasonably stay there while they are checking her over, but the irrational part of my brain doesn’t care.

There was a moment during the fire, as the adrenaline and chaos kicked in, that I crossed over from doing my job to doing something selfish. I saw the desperate, scared look in her eyes, and I don’t know how or why, but we connected. I should have been focused on helping her instead of wanting to take her, but I wasn’t able to think straight. I was struck by her beauty, yes, but something stronger was pulling me in her direction.

I sit there nervously, bouncing my knee, waiting on something to change. I can’t sit here not knowing what’s happening any longer, and I start to get up. Just as I put my palms on the armrests to push myself up, the nurse comes out and gives me a smile.

“She’s asking for you.”

I jolt up and take three long steps into her room. There’s another nurse writing some things down on a chart and asking her questions, but when she sees me, her blue eyes light up.

“I thought I dreamed you up,” she says, a slight blush hitting her cheeks. “I just asked the nurse if a firefighter came in with me, and she said you were in the hall. Thanks for staying. You can leave now if you need to. I’m sorry I asked you to stay with me. I think I was just panicking.”

She looks away, and I step closer, taking her hand. I look down and don’t see a ring on her finger, so I’m assuming she’s single.

“I wanted to stay and make sure you were okay.” I hesitate, hating to ask. “Is there someone I can call for you? A husband? Boyfriend?”

I see the nurse give me a sly smile, like she knows my game. “We’ve already asked Ms. Clover about next of kin,” the nurse says, still scribbling on her chart.