Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“Everything?” I asked.
He nodded. “Sorry, Cherry. Everything.” He reached over and squeezed my hand. “I know how upsetting that must be.”
“Not as upsetting as it would be if this had happened a month ago.”
“Why?”
“When I moved in to the smaller apartment, Connie let me store a bunch of totes filled with things I didn’t have room for in the apartment in the basement of the building. Not long ago, she discovered a leak, and Chase and Hannah graciously let me move them to their basement about a month ago. All my photos and a lot of my things are in those totes. The apartment was too small for me to have them out or to have too many photos around. I lost what was out, but I think Hannah has copies of a lot of the photos. The knickknacks and other things… Well, I suppose they’re just things. My mother’s quilt makes me sad, but…” I trailed off, trying not to cry.
“Maybe some things can be salvaged. Once we can go in, I’ll pack up what we can,” Dom assured me, stroking my hand.
“We’ll help,” Chase said, coming in with Hannah.
“Of course we will,” she agreed. “If it’s just smoke, we’ll take it somewhere.”
“We do ozone bombs in cars,” Chase mused. “Gets rid of odors. Maybe we could try that on other things.”
Dom nodded in agreement. “Good thinking.”
“Once we can get in,” I agreed, amazed at their offer. “I wonder when they’ll know what it was that caused the fire.”
“Soon, hopefully,” Hannah murmured.
I was suddenly exhausted, and the soup no longer held much appeal. Dom looked at Hannah, who took the tray and gave it to Chase. “Sleep a bit, Mom. You might be hungrier later.”
Dom helped me settle, and he gave me some pain pills. “You want me to stay?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.”
Hannah smiled. “We’ll come back later.”
Dom walked them out and returned, pulling off the hoodie he wore, leaving him in a tight T-shirt.
“How’s your head?” I asked, concerned.
“A bit touchy. I’m tired too, so a nap is a good thing. The kids are coming back later.” He stretched out beside me, letting me arrange myself so I was close. I felt better when I could touch him.
I sighed quietly, hoping some sleep would help. I felt jumpy and on edge. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the smoke around me. Felt the fear creep into my chest and make me tense. I fought back the emotion that was swelling. I was safe and here with Dom.
Yet, it kept building.
He tightened his arm around me. “You can cry, you know,” he whispered, understanding my emotion. “You lost your home, your place of employment, all your things. I know you’re trying to be strong for Hannah, but you don’t have to pretend with me.”
I looked up at him, meeting his intense, steady gaze.
“I know you’re here. That I’m safe. But I feel almost…scared,” I confessed. “The last time I lay down for a nap…”
“I know. I understand. You have every right to feel whatever you feel,” he murmured. “But I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“If you hadn’t come—” A sob escaped my mouth.
He nestled closer, pulling me to him. “I know. I keep thinking that. But I did. And you’re here and safe. Nothing is going to hurt you. I promise.” He pressed a kiss to my head. “Let it out, baby. You’ll feel better.”
I buried my face into his chest and began to cry. I let myself grieve for my lost possessions. My job. My home. How close I’d come to losing everything. Dom held me, not offering platitudes or telling me everything would be okay. He let me cry until my own thoughts changed from “what if” to “what now.” I still had most of my photos and keepsakes. They were with Hannah. I never really liked the apartment, and I would find another place. I had already known I was going to have to give up hairdressing soon. My legs and shoulders couldn’t do it full time anymore. I would find another job.
And I was alive. With Dom. He was with me, his heat soaking into my skin like a warm blanket. His scent wrapped around me, and the faint whiff of smoke was disbursed by his cologne. By him.
With a long shudder, my tears stopped. I wiped my face with the tissue he handed me and cuddled as close as I could get.
Then I slept.
Later, my boss called to check on me, tearfully informing me the salon was gone and she wasn’t sure if she would ever reopen. I didn’t tell her I wouldn’t return. I wasn’t ready to say that yet.
“I have no idea what happened,” she wept. “The girls locked up, and they said everything seemed fine.”
“Could be an electrical fire,” I suggested.