Page 112 of Ablaze

I force another smile. “He’s fine. He came back a little dehydrated and with a residual cough, but he’s back to being the pain in the ass he always was.”

Nothing.

While Jolene huffs out a small laugh, I get nothing from Dean besides the slightest sag of his shoulder, letting me know he’s relieved. Other than that, not even a minuscule smile.

Something unwelcome stirs inside me. Something that has me wondering if he even heard me, if he’s even noticed I’m here. Does he even care that I’m here?

But it’s also a ridiculous and selfish thought. How can I expect him to be jovial and like his old self so quickly?

His gaze travels to the middle of his chest, and he lifts the cover to examine the bandage around his torso.

The nurses enter as Marvin starts to answer Dean’s silent questions. “I don’t know how much you remember, son, but you were in a burning building when the structure toppled over behind you and you landed chest-first over a blazing beam.”

Marvin pauses as the nurses ask Dean a few questions and start their tests and scans. “You were airlifted here and treated for your burns.” Dean’s dad tilts his head toward Dean’s chest. “You’ve got a rather large third-degree burn on your chest, but the doctors are saying you should heal nicely over the next few weeks.” He pauses. “But you’re going to have a nasty scar to show for it, though.”

Dean’s eyes flick to mine at the mention of the scar, a flash of affection swimming through them before it disappears, transforming into something that looks a lot like . . . anguish.

“I remember most of it.” He nods toward the TV, which has been on with the volume muted. Currently, the news is being reported on screen. “And the fire?”

Dean’s mom scrubs her hand over his arm. “They’ve contained it to a small area and things are looking much better–”

Just then, Dean takes an audible intake of breath as his gaze pins on the latest headline. “Deputy Chief Leonard McAdams Dies During One of California’s Deadliest Wildfires.”

“He . . .” Dean’s eyes glaze. “He was leading my crew.”

My hand immediately finds his, my chest feeling tight.

“Oh, honey,” Jolene consoles. “I’m so sorry.”

Dean’s quiet, his eyes still trained on the TV, but aside from the twitch in his bottom lip–the one that gives away how hard he’s trying to keep it together as the news of the deputy chief’s death hits him like a sledgehammer–he stays stoic.

A few minutes later, the doctor comes inside to ask Dean about his pain levels and talks to him about when his bandages can come off. Based on his assessments, Dean should be able to go home in the next couple of days, but he is required to stay at home for the next couple of weeks until his wounds heal more.

When the doctor leaves, Jolene makes her way back to Dean’s side. I haven’t left my spot next to his other side ever since he woke up.

“I think we’re going to run downstairs to find something to eat,” she states, looking over at Marvin and Karine. “I also need to call your brothers to let them know how you are. They’ve been messaging me incessantly.” She turns her gaze at me. “Sweetheart, you haven’t eaten a decent thing in the past four days. Can I get you something other than hospital food?”

I shake my head. “No, but thank you, though. I’m not very hungry.”

Jolene’s palm wraps around my wrist before she brings it closer to her, looking at me with that same motherly affection she gives Dean. “The way you’ve been here for Dean . . .” Her chin wobbles, her watery eyes turning to Dean. “The minute she heard about you being taken to the hospital, she booked a flight here. She hasn’t left your side for even a minute, sweetheart. I don’t think she’s even slept–”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here,” I cut her off, feeling my cheeks heat. Yes, I took the first flight here and have been spending the nights in Dean’s room here, but I’ve done it as much for him as I have for myself. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t even breathe right without being near him.

Jolene nods in understanding before heading to the door, where both Marvin and Karine are waiting for her, leaving me and Dean alone for the first time since he woke up.

I turn toward him and release a breath when he finally lets his eyes linger on mine. But the smile that was forming on my lips quickly falls when I see that same torment in them again. Like he’s trying to form words he hasn’t found sounds for. Like he’s trying to say something he doesn’t have the courage to.

My heart aches inside my chest, a sense of foreboding filling its cavity. I lift my fingers to his hairline. Maybe I’m just reading this all wrong. He’s just going through a lot.

My fingertips flutter over his skin, and I’m just about to ask him what’s wrong again when he turns his head to the side, letting my fingers fall.

I watch his chest rise and fall, his lips twitch the same way they did when he saw the news about the deputy chief who died. His hand forms a fist at his side.

“Dean?” For reasons unbeknownst to me, reasons I can’t quite make sense of, my voice cracks, like I already know what he’s thinking. Like he’s created this huge, cavernous hole between us and my hand isn’t able to reach his on the other side. “What’s–”

He shuts his eyes tight, like even my voice isn’t something he can bear. “You should go join them downstairs, Mala. I need to rest.”

A sharp pain shoots through my chest at his dismissal, like I’ve been stabbed, and I take in a shaky breath.

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