Page 53 of Melting for the Firefighter
Her eyes lift to mine.
“Is that what you want?”
Say no.
Tell her I want her in my bed every night.
Tell her I want her dresses hanging beside my shirts and her flowers taking over every room.
Tell her this house was only a place to sleep before she walked into it.
Fear closes around my throat.
“I want you safe,” I say. “And I want your shop rebuilt.”
Something dims in her face.
“Of course.”
The answer is wrong.
I know it the second it leaves my mouth.
But the adjuster continues speaking, and the moment closes before I can force the truth past eleven years of old damage.
When the call ends, I retrieve the folder Jordan dropped off before his shift.
“Jordan spoke to a contractor he knows,” I say. “These are rough options. Nothing final.”
I spread the preliminary sketches across the table.
Cora leans closer.
“New wiring throughout,” I explain. “Fire-rated rear door. Updated alarm system. They could make the workroom larger if this interior wall isn’t load-bearing.”
Her fingers move over the drawing.
“You arranged this?”
“Jordan called the contractor. Zain spoke to the town about fast-tracking the permits once the insurance company approves the work.”
Her eyes fill.
I tell myself it is happiness because the other possibility hurts too much.
“You’ll have your home back,” I say.
“Right.”
She closes the folder.
Her phone rings again.
Momappears on the screen.
Cora stares at the name.
Her shoulders pull tight.
