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ANGELA
My eyes are staring at the text message from him and unsure what to think at this point. Could he be having cold feet? Did something change since I saw him last night? Right now, my mind is going a million miles per minute and my heart is hurting.
Stefan: Listen, we can’t start this just yet. I just completely took over the company and I’m never going to have free time now with all of my normal things plus taking over all the interviews and crap that your brother was doing.
After everything, he expects me to just wait around for him to be ready. First, we couldn’t do anything because of Hendrix, and now that he is out of the way, it’s because of work. I understand he is going to have a lot on his plate now, and it’s understandable that we won’t get to see each other much, but completely sidelining me, is not okay. I’m not some girl he just met. We have known each other for decades, and if he can’t come to the conclusion that he wants to be with me, and put everything else aside, or at least understand that I will never get upset with him because he has to work, then maybe we aren’t meant to be together.
Over the last week, things have escalated, and maybe I read too much into it, but I thought we were going somewhere. I refuse to ever be someone’s second choice, and work should never take priority of being with someone. Does he just want to be lonely for the rest of his life? Or for the next year until he sells the company? It’s not fair to me, to wait around, when there could be another guy out there for me.
I don’t know what to do. Do I just stop talking to him altogether? Hold myself to a higher standard, and don’t let anyone including Stefan put me on the backburner. I’ve never put it up with before, why should I start now?
My feelings are getting the best of me, and because of our history, I want to give him a chance. I’ll give him a couple days to figure out that he wants to be with me, or just go our separate ways. I have to stick to my guns.
I wipe my eyes and go back into the common room where Tristan is sitting.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, probably noticing my blotchy ass face.
“Don’t worry about it. Just ready to be home.”
I try to hold off on texting him, even though I want to. Work can’t be the reason, there has to be something else keeping him from being with me.
Me: Work isn’t a valid excuse. Either you want to be with me, or you don’t. Please don’t sugar coat it. It’s clear that screwing me was fun, but that’s all you wanted. Definitely didn’t take you as that type of guy, but guess Hendrix was right. He tried to warn me.
My brother did tell me multiple times that he was player, and that he loved to take girls home and then never call them. I guess I have been too naïve to believe that, but maybe he was telling the truth. As much as I thought he was different, right now he is proving that my brother was right. I hate saying that, because I have always held Stefan up on a pedestal, and now he is shattering all my beliefs. Maybe he isn’t the good guy I’ve always believed him to be?
The alarm goes off right as I press send, and I jump up to put on my gear and meet Tristan and the others on the truck. I must push everything personal aside and focus on work. He pulls out, turning the sirens on, and heading straight for Prima Avenue, and with it being dark, it’s harder to see the smoke in the sky. The house is going up, and the likelihood of people inside is likely. This is when most don’t wake up to the smoke alarms in time to get out before things spread.
“I’m going inside!” I scream, jumping off the truck without any hesitation. The front door swings open, and flames are everywhere.
My eyes peer around the structure, looking for signs of anyone inside, but nothing yet.
“Hello?” I say, moving through the living room to the back of the house.
They have drapes on all the windows which is just helping it spread faster. We have about two minutes before everything collapses. I have to hurry.
“Is anyone in here?” I yell, opening each door, and looking inside.
I get to the last bedroom, and find a woman on the floor, unconscious and a toddler hiding under the bed. Why am I always the one that finds people like this? It’s fucking heart breaking.
“Sweetie, come to me. We gotta get you out of here!” I scream, because we are running out of time. The little boy grabs my hand.
“I’m going to try to pick you up,” I tell the woman. She might not be conscious but it’s a habit to communicate with the victims. I get her into my arms and the little boy stays close to me.
“Stay next to me. Okay?” I say, looking down at the little boy. He is young, maybe two and stumbles as he walks. I have no free hands to help me.
“This way, sweetie.”
We get through the hallway and to the living room, when a crash sounds from the back of the house, and then something falls on top of me and everything goes black.
