Page 61 of Melting for the Firefighter
His eyes stay on Vanessa, colder than I have ever seen them.
“You lost all of that the day you left me at the altar.”
Vanessa’s eyes shine.
“You’re still angry.”
“The anger faded a long time ago.”
“Then what do you feel?”
“Nothing.”
The finality in his answer wipes the sadness from her face, leaving something sharper behind.
She turns toward me.
“Be careful,” she says. “Lance has always needed someone to save.”
His hand settles at my waist.
“Stop.”
The warning in his voice is low enough to make the hairs rise along my arms.
Vanessa ignores it.
“His mother. His father. Every stranger in a burning house. He thinks being needed is the same thing as being loved.”
The words find every fear I have tried to bury.
“Cora is not part of this,” Lance says.
“She is the whole point.”
Vanessa gestures toward the donation sign.
“Her shop burns down, and suddenly you have someone living in your house who depends on you for everything. You must feel like a hero.”
Lance steps between us.
“Enough.”
His voice cuts through the noise of the festival.
Vanessa flinches.
“Cora is not someone I rescued and forgot,” he says. “She is the woman I love.”
The world stops.
Tessa’s fingers close around my arm.
Lance said love.
He said it in front of Vanessa, the fire department, the town, and every person close enough to hear.
And he is looking straight at me.
