Walking into the room and around the side of the bed Ruby is on, she gets to her feet, and I envelop her in a hug. Once I’d done a quick decon at the scene, I found my phone in the truck and called Ruby to tell her about Bryn. It wasn’t a call I wanted to make, but I knew she’d hang me by my balls if I didn’t.
Ruby’s shoulders shake a second later, and I tighten my hold on her as she hugs me back, breathing slowly through my nose to contain my own emotion welling in my eyes and throat as I look over at Bryn lying there. Today could have easily ended so differently. If I had been slower, if Brody hadn’t shown up when he did, if we had been ten seconds later…
It didn’t end like that, but removed from the situation, it makes the “ifs” run rampant in my head.
Bryn could have died today. I could have lost the love of my life before I even had the chance to fully experience it.
The deep burning ache in my chest makes it harder to breathe, and a second later Ruby’s hand is rubbing up and down my back as if she knows exactly where my thoughts have gone. It’s easy to understand why Bryn loves her so much.
Is the sensation I feel, knowing I could have lost her, the same one Bryn walks around with daily when it comes to Ruby? The overwhelming sense of “I could have lost or could lose her at any moment”? It’s like a dead weight sitting square on my chest, making it impossible to breathe.
I didn’t lose her. I did not lose her.
But you could have.
“It’s okay,” Ruby whispers, drawing back. “You’re right. We didn’t lose her.”
It’s only then that I realize the words didn’t only live inside my head, I spoke them out loud. Releasing me, she dabs at her eye with a tissue, and I wipe my own face with a hand, clearing away the moisture now streaking it.
“Have you talked to her?” I ask, my throat thick, making my voice gruffer than normal.
She shakes her head. “She’s been out since I got here. She—” Ruby pauses, clears her throat and tries again, “She hasn’t moved much. I’ve just been watching her, trying to understand why that man would do this. How anyone could—could—could do this to her.”
Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, I hug her into my side as she breaks down.
“I know how scared she’s been to lose me, but I never imagined being in a situation where I could lose her,” Ruby says, voice cracking. “She has so much life left to live, so many memories left to make. I wish I could trade spots with her. I’ve lived my life. I’ve experienced the great love and the beauty of having children and the miracle of grandchildren. It’s her turn to have all of that, and she nearly missed out on it all. If it weren’t for you…”
Rubbing her upper arm to offer what little comfort I can, I exhale a deep breath. If it weren’t for me, the arsonist may never have targeted Bryn in the first place, but that’s a thought that’ll take some time to unpack.
“She’s not going to miss out on any of it, Gran,” I tell her, somehow keeping any shake out of my voice. “If she’ll have me, I’m going to make sure she gets all of that.”
Ruby turns her head to look up at me, dabbing at her eyes with the tissue again. “She loves you. I think for a while now. She hasn’t told me, but I can see it. I know her, and I know she was trying to protect herself, but you showed her it doesn’t need to bejust her and I.”
“We showed her.” I squeeze Ruby’s shoulder. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
I don’t tell Ruby that I know she’s right, or that Bryn mouthed the words to me. If Bryn wants to share that later, she will, but I’ll hold that memory close to my chest until I can make a new one.
One where I hear the words out loud.
A while later, I’ve taken up residence at Bryn’s bedside opposite where Ruby sat until five minutes ago when she left to find us coffee. They’re admitting Bryn, at least overnight, worried about worsening pulmonary edema, but we're still waiting on a bed.
Jordan came and checked on Bryn’s vitals, commenting that everything looked good, and she’d be back again shortly to switch out the bag of saline. Bryn was severely dehydrated by the time she got here, considering all the sweat that poured off her in the fire.
I’ve taken to tracing up and down Bryn’s ring finger on her left hand—the one with the worst handcuff bruising—wondering what kind of ring she’d want one day. Probably a ridiculous thing to be thinking about, for several reasons, but I’ve been sure about this woman for a long time. Today just put into focus how little I want to wait on anything.
I will, if that’s what she wants, but I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Including firefighting.
She’s not a possession to be claimed, I stand by that, but the hell if I don’t want to claim her for myself for all the world to know. She is mine and I will do whatever is in my power to protect that.
Her hand twitches on my next stroke down her finger, making me freeze. Glancing up at her face, her eyes are still closed, so I run the pad of my thumb along the slender length once more. Again, she twitches, fingers curling towards her palm. I slide my hand beneath hers, and she closes her grip around it, though there’s no strength to the hold.
Raising our hands to my face, I press the back of hers against my cheek. A second later, her eyelids flutter, then close, as though they weigh a thousand pounds and are too heavy to keep open. Bryn sighs into her mask, head turning fully in my direction, and then her eyes crack open and stay there for a second, another, and then close.
“Hi, baby,” I whisper, squeezing her hand gently. When she returns the gesture, albeit weakly, I manage a smile, relief coursing through me. “You’re safe. You’re in the hospital.”
Bryn manages a small nod before her eyes disappear again. It’s a minute before she blinks them back open, fighting the medication and exhaustion. When she coughs in the next moment, though, she’s forced awake as her body lurches forward from the bed.
“It’s okay, get it out,” I tell her, giving her the calm, steady Wyatt on the outside while my stomach drops to my feet and my heart rises into my throat.
