Page 49 of Hearts & Embers

"A section of damaged ceiling shifted during overhaul."

The explanation sounded entirely too casual.

"And?"

"Some embers came down."

My expression must have changed because his smile faded slightly.

"The glove protected my hand but the sleeve pulled back and I got a minor burn."

I looked at the bandage again.

"A minor burn requiring a fairly substantial dressing?"

"It looks worse than it is."

Before I could continue, Janine returned carrying paperwork and a folder containing the final figures for the vehicle we'd just driven. The interruption ended the discussion, but it didn't stop my thoughts.

While delivery dates, warranty information, and registration details were explained, I found myself paying considerably more attention to Jasper than the conversation taking place across the desk.

Eventually the paperwork reached the point where my signature became necessary. The sedan we'd chosen offered everything I needed without including dozens of expensive features I would never use, and after one final review of the numbers I signed the purchase agreement. Delivery was scheduled for the following week, and Janine looked delighted by the outcome.

The process should have left me relieved. Instead, my attention kept returning to Jasper's arm.

The burn itself wasn't serious. Rationally, I understood that. The problem was the injury created an association to when his life had been in serious danger a few weeks earlier and I couldn't seem to stop the reminder.

The drive back to my apartment felt different from the rest of the day. Conversation continued normally enough, but I found myself watching Jasper more closely than usual. Each cough attracted my attention, and each glimpse of the bandage reminded me he was injured.

When we arrived at my apartment, Jasper made coffee and brought it into the living room while I settled onto the couch. For several minutes we discussed the car, the dealership, and the absurd persistence of salespeople. Eventually the conversation faded. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but it felt unfinished.

Jasper noticed first.

"Talk to me."

I studied at the coffee mug in my hands and for several moments I searched for the right words. The problem wasn't explaining what I felt. The problem was admitting it aloud.

"I don't like seeing you hurt."

Jasper's expression softened immediately.

"Aurora."

I shook my head.

"Let me finish."

He nodded.

"When we met, I knew you were a firefighter. I thought I understood the risks involved because everybody is supposed to know them. Firefighters enter burning buildings. They rescue people from dangerous situations. Sometimes they get injured. None of that was a surprise."

I paused briefly before continuing.

"The problem is that now you're not some firefighter. You're my Jasper."

His eyes never left mine.

"The shoulder injury. The surgery. The burn on your hand. The coughing today. Every time something happens, I find myself wondering what will happen next and will you survive."