Firefighter's Virgin

“Okay,” I said, even though it wasn’t even 7 o’clock yet.

“He’s had a really busy day,” Cole said.

I unbuckled my seat belt. “He has. I wouldn’t be surprised if he slept until tomorrow morning. Well... okay. Goodnight, Cole. I’m sorry that things turned out the way they did, but I’m glad they were all right in the end.”

I leaned forward a little, thinking that he would at least give me a kiss goodnight. He stayed where he was, though, for several seconds, until he finally leaned forward to give me a quick peck on the lips.

“Goodnight,” he said.

I got out of the car feeling very disconcerted, though I tried telling myself that I was just imagining it, that there was nothing wrong. That Cole was just shaken up about earlier and he’d be fine later on.

We hadn’t eaten dinner there, so I rummaged through the fridge and made a salad with some leftover cold chicken from the night before. I ate that and then tried to watch TV for a little bit, though there was nothing that good on. It was getting later, though, and I decided I would take a shower and go to bed. I was on my way to the bathroom when there was a knock at the door.

I felt a smile go across my face when I saw that it was Cole. I knew that I’d been silly to be worried earlier, that all he needed was a little time to process what had happened and realize that everything had turned out fine.

But when I opened the door, he was not smiling.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said. Then he shook his head. “No, it’s not. And listen, I can’t stay long since Declan’s in bed. I probably shouldn’t even be over here right now, considering all that’s happened.”

“Do you want me to come over there?”

“No,” he said. “I don’t think so. I... I’ve been giving everything a lot of thought. And I just... I can’t do this anymore, Allie, I’m sorry.”

My heart stopped beating for a second, and it felt as though my whole body froze for a moment, like blood wasn’t even circulating. “Wh... what?” I said. “What do you mean?”

“I have been so caught up with you. I’ve been distracted because I’ve been thinking about you, I haven’t been able to focus—I’m not saying this is your fault, because it’s not. But something seriously bad could have happened to Declan, and if it had, I never would be able to forgive myself. And it was all because I wasn’t paying close enough attention to him because I was focused on you.”

“Cole, it was an accident. You weren’t purposefully being negligent. I think you’re blowing this way out proportion.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Do you remember that day when we rode bikes to the playground? And we were sitting there on the bench and you were asking me if something was wrong?”

“Yes,” I said.

“And do you remember how you told me that I never had to be afraid to tell you the truth, that you wouldn’t lose your shit?”

I nodded slowly, knowing what was coming, but not willing to let myself believe he was actually going to say it. No, I thought, no no no no. Like if I said it enough times it wouldn’t actually happen.

“We can’t see each other anymore,” Cole said softly, and he blinked a few times, and I realized he was trying to blink back tears. “But I want you to know that you didn’t do anything wrong, okay? You’re a wonderful person. And I mean that. I just keep thinking about what could have happened if the wrong people had found Declan, how I would never be able to forgive myself. I mean, I already can’t forgive myself for this happening in the first place—”

“But he’s okay,” I said. “Nothing bad happened.”

“But it could have. And if it did, I would’ve had to live with myself for the rest of my life, knowing that because I was distracted, he was able to wander off.”

I opened my mouth to tell him that it happened, that sometimes parents weren’t always able to keep track of their kids 100 percent of the time, but I knew he was right—I knew that if I hadn’t been there, the chances of that happening with Declan would probably have been zero.

Cole wiped at his eyes. It felt, in a way, as though something inside of me was breaking, and my own throat felt tight, constricted, but it was like seeing him cry made my own tears dry up. Oh, there’d be plenty of crying later, once I was alone—I knew that—but I wasn’t going to cry now in front of him. Yes, I had told him on more than one occasion that he could be completely open and honest with me, but there was no way I was going to let him see how devastated I felt over this.

He was looking at me. “Say something,” he said.

“I’m not sure what I can say to that,” I replied slowly. Thankfully, my voice didn’t quiver. “You’ve clearly made up your mind about it, and I’m not going to try to change it. If that’s how you feel, then that’s how you feel. I appreciate you being honest with me.”

He held my gaze for several moments, like he was waiting for me to break down, confess that I was in love with him—hadn’t we just said that, only a few short days ago?—and that he couldn’t do this to me. And yes, there was a part of me that wanted to do that, but I

wasn’t going to.

I felt numb after he left, but that numbness only lasted for a few minutes until the tears started. I couldn’t hold them back any longer, and I sat on the couch and clutched a pillow and cried in a way I hadn’t cried in a long, long time. It didn’t feel particularly good or cathartic. I didn’t stop crying and feel as though a dark cloud had been lifted. I stopped crying when my body seemed to have run out of tears, and then I just felt... hollow. Almost as though a limb had been cut off, like I was missing a very important part of myself. Yet I was also overwhelmed by how powerless I felt, how there seemed nothing I could do to remedy the situation, nothing I could do to change his mind.