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Did he get cold feet?
Did he realize taking on me and Jordan was too much?
Does he want someone who can bring more to the table?
These questions and many others have been plaguing my mind since he didn’t come home Sunday and has barely texted me back. Still, no matter how many doubts my brain is riddled with, deep down, I feel like there’s something wrong.
I know Pierce wants to marry me.
He loves Jordan and me with all of his heart.
He doesn’t want me to be anything other than who I am.
Which is why I’m currently pulling into the station, so I can find Pierce and speak to him in person. I don’t doubt his love for me, which means there’s something else going on. And after all the times he’s been there for me, it’s time for me to be there for him.
As I walk through the main area, looking for Pierce, several guys smile my way, but there’s a nervousness in the air. Something is definitely going on.
When I get to the bunk room, I don’t find Pierce, but papers on a desk catch my attention before I can go looking for him in another part of the station.
A picture of me but younger.
I slide the papers around and find a picture of Jordan—but younger as well.
Curious about why pictures of us from several years ago are on the desk, I lift the papers up and try to make sense of what I’m seeing. It’s a report and as I read through it, it hits me that this is the report from the night of the fire. I flip through several pages and stop when I’m met with a picture of Trent. It’s the one from his driver’s license. I remember it because I was there the day he got it.
I’m flipping through more of the pages, trying to figure out why, what looks to be the official report from the fire, is on the desk where Pierce works, when the man himself walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He pauses at the sight of me, and I take a moment to stare at him. His hair is wet and messy, his body is hard, and he’s sporting almost a full beard, telling me he hasn’t shaved since the night of the charity event.
Our eyes meet, and he takes a step forward as if he’s going to bridge the gap between us and take me into his arms. But then he suddenly stops, like there’s an invisible wall preventing him from getting to me, and I find myself wrapping my arms around my torso, the room cold without his embrace.
His eyes are bloodshot with dark circles underneath, as if he hasn’t been sleeping, and his shoulders are slightly hunched over. His lips are downturned in a frown that breaks my heart. Something is very wrong.
Then he notices the paper in my hands. I expect him to explain, but without a word, he turns his back on me and leaves the room while I stay rooted to my spot, wondering what the hell is going on.
When he returns, now dressed in a work shirt and jeans, he puts his socks and shoes on, then stands and takes the papers from my hands. Still remaining silent, he guides me out of the firehouse. Once he opens my vehicle door, he finally speaks. “I’ll meet you at the house.”
I nod, the lump of emotion caught in my throat preventing me from speaking. Something is more than wrong, and the more I try to figure out what it is, the more confused I get.
Back at home, we both park in the garage. Once we’re inside, Pierce lets Cinder out in the fenced-in backyard while I sit on the couch, unsure of what to do with myself.
A few minutes later, Pierce joins me, but rather than sitting next to me, he sits on the coffee table across from me.
For several minutes, he just stares at me as I silently pray that whatever’s wrong won’t mean losing the man I love. That it won’t prevent us from getting married. I can handle anything that’s thrown my way. I’m strong and resilient. No matter how tough shit gets, I always fight my way through it the best I can. But I don’t want to handle losing Pierce.
When the silence becomes too much, I speak. “Pierce, you’re scaring me,” I admit. “I’m drawing a million conclusions, every one worse than the last. Please tell me what’s wrong, so I can help you figure out how to fix it.”
“That’s the problem,” he rasps. “It can’t be fixed. What I did can’t be undone.”
The first thought that pops into my head is that he cheated, though I immediately push that thought away. Pierce isn’t a cheater. He was cheated on and would never do that to someone else.
