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“No. I’ll take her in,” I tell him.
“Sir—”
“I said I’ll take her,” I repeat, leaving no room for argument. We don’t need to wait for an ambulance. This isn’t life and death, and she’s not leaving my side.
“I’ll get your truck,” Cole says, taking off, running back toward my house.
The ride to the emergency room is quiet. Neither one of us says much, and Goldie just stares out the window. Once we’re there, they immediately take her back as the fire department had called it in. She didn’t ask me to go with her, but then again, I didn’t think she would.
It hurts to know she doesn’t want me with her, and I honestly don’t know if it’s because she likes to do things on her own or because of how we left things.
Two and a half hours later, we’re back at her house, standing in the living room and staring at the damage. The fire really was contained to the back wall of the kitchen and didn’t crawl its way out to other parts of the room. Obviously, restoration will need to come in, and the kitchen will need to be redone, but the whole thing could have been much worse.
“I am never going to fry anything ever again,” she says, looking more defeated than I’ve ever seen her. Even her hair has lost its shine.
“I think that’s probably a wise decision,” I tell her, trying to keep the mood light.
She turns to face me, and her eyes are so sad. I just want to pull her against me again, but she’s put up a wall. I feel it, and I’m doing my best to respect it.
“Thank you for going with me.” She shuffles from one foot to the other. She’s dismissing me.
I take a step toward her. “You should probably stay with me until this smell is gone.”
“It’s okay. I’ll be fine here,” she mumbles as she looks around again. There are black streaks all over the other cabinets, and the ceiling is covered.
“Goldie.” I pin her with a look that says please don’t argue with me, but I should have known that wouldn’t work on my girl.
My beautiful, stubborn, resilient girl.
“Briggs, I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m ready to be alone,” she pleads. She’s not trying to be rude. She just wants to get rid of me.
“Then be alone at my house. Take whichever room you want, and I’ll leave you be.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” She cradles her arm to her chest, and I instantly track the movement.
“Why are you doing this right now?” I ask softly. She can’t mean it. Who would want to be alone after something like this?
“What do you mean? I had a rough night, as you well know, and I just want to go upstairs, attempt to get clean, and get in my bed. Briggs, I’m exhausted,” she says, her eyes filling with tears.
“Fine. Then I’ll stay here,” I tell her as I walk toward the couch and start wiping it off. I’m pissed that she just won’t let me help her, and I’m doing my best not to show it, but I’m like a bull in a china shop. There’s no tiptoeing around my emotions.
“No. You are not staying here.” This time, she is firm, and where I thought I might be able to persuade her, I can see now that’s not happening.
I turn to face her, and our eyes lock. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you to,” she says like it’s the easiest decision she’s ever had to make.
I swallow as my heart goes numb. It’s preparing for the impact that it knows is coming.
“I don’t understand. Goldie, I want to be near you. Tonight was rough for me too. I’m not asking much. I just want to share space with you.”
“Briggs, we’re not friends.” Her voice cracks. “I appreciate you helping me, but I’ll take it from here.”
“Not friends? That’s news to me.”
“Is it? You made it very clear that’s what you want, but it’s not what I want. I don’t want to be your friend.”
“What?” I look at her like she’s lost her mind, only she doesn’t answer me. She glares at me with glassy eyes like I’m suddenly enemy number one.
