Falling for a Former Flame: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (ABCs of Love)

by Brenna Jacobs

  The mirror showed deep shadows under his eyes. Great. He smelled like destruction and looked like exhaustion. Not to mention that he’d like to drop into a bed for about twelve hours. How was he going to be useful to Nick?

  He re-wet his hands and scrubbed some water through his hair, stretched his arms, and fixed his shirt. Okay. Ready to get back out there and make everything okay.

  Because that was his job.

  That’s who I am, Fletcher thought to himself.

  As he walked back into the lobby, he heard commotion at the intake desk. That was not at all unusual for an emergency room; Hadley’s voice at the center of it was unexpected.

  She stood by the front desk, Edison walking circles around her, tangling her legs in his leash.

  “No, I understand that I can’t bring him inside, but I also definitely can’t leave him in the car.”

  The triage nurse was unfazed at how completely adorable Hadley looked standing there being tied up by her enormous dog.

  “Have him sit and wait outside the door. He looks like he’ll stay warm enough.” The woman was inflexible.

  Hadley laughed, a note of hysteria creeping into the sound. “Warm is not the issue. Stay is the issue.”

  Rose approached Hadley from one side as Fletcher approached from the other. Reaching around Edison, Rose wrapped Hadley in a hug then took the leash handle and set to untangling Hadley’s legs.

  Fletcher offered the triage nurse what he was sure was his most winning smile. “Hi,” he said, hoping the Greensburg Fire logo on his jacket was obvious enough for this woman to see that the two of them were on the same team. “Is there a problem here?”

  The nurse, far from won over, pointed at Edison and then at the door.

  Rose extracted Hadley from the leash and got a slurpy kiss from Edison for her efforts. “Come on,” Rose said. “Let’s get you out of here.” She turned to Hadley. “We could both use a good leg-stretching. We’ll walk ourselves warm out there, because I’m pretty sure I can’t get him into my car.”

  “He’ll go anywhere you invite him, but you really don’t want him in your car. It may never recover. But Rose, you shouldn’t…” Hadley tried to protest, but Rose shook her head, smiled, and followed Edison out the sliding doors.

  “Tell me,” Hadley said, turning to Fletcher.

  Sure that she needed to hear the good news first, Fletcher said, “Savanna’s in with Nick. She hasn’t left his side.”

  Hadley gave a small grin. “I never saw that coming. What else?”

  Fletcher looked at the door where the nurses occasionally came through to talk to waiting families in the lobby. Nobody came, so he told her what he’d heard over the last couple of hours.

  “A beam came unhooked and he took a heavy hit to the back of his head. Knocked him over. The hit jarred some things, including his head and neck. There was a problem with the filter in his helmet, and he took in a lot of smoke.”

  “What’s the last thing they told you?” She looked smaller than usual. Fletcher realized it was because she was acting afraid, and Hadley Booth never acted afraid.

  “Concussion and smoke inhalation.”

  She nodded. “Okay.” She took a glance around. “And you haven’t been inside at all?”

  He shook his head. “One visitor at a time. It’s policy for the first twelve hours or something.” He pointed to the chairs. “Want to sit?”

  Hadley nodded and they moved to a quiet section of chairs.

  He needed to tell her a few more specifics, but he was worried that she’d get hysterical. He’d been so certain up until three days ago that Nick was in love with Hadley, he now realized he had no idea how Hadley might feel about Nick. If she was interested in him, this would all hurt her much more than if they were simply friends.

  Watching her face carefully for the moment that he gave her more than she could handle, Fletcher began.

  “He isn’t awake yet,” he said in a soft voice, as though the tone in which he delivered the news would somehow make it less horrifying.

  Her eyebrows came down in concern, but she didn’t stop him.

  “Since I’m a first responder, they’re telling me things they wouldn’t tell anyone else who isn’t family, but they’re not saying much about when they think he’ll wake. Or what might have changed.”

  Her eyes searched his face. “I don’t understand. What kind of thing might have changed?” she asked.

  He looked at the floor. “Head wounds are tricky,” he said. “They won’t know until he’s awake, but mobility, memory, function, all of those things are in question.”

  Hadley made a gasping noise in her throat. “Are you telling me,” she said in a frantic whisper, “that Nick may or may not wake up, and if he does, he could be a paralyzed amnesiac?”

  “Wow. That escalated quickly,” he said. “I was trying hard not to say any of those things. But I guess to some degree or another, those are some of the possibilities.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “I don’t want to scare you, Hadley. But I also don’t want you to be shocked by whatever happens. I’m really sorry.”

  She nodded as he talked, but when he finished, her eyebrows came together. “You’re sorry about what?”

  Fletcher wasn’t sure how to answer that. He didn’t really know why he’d said it, but as soon as he began to speak, the words tumbled out. “Sorry that I have to give you bad news. That any of this even happened. That I couldn’t protect him.”

  Now Hadley reached for Fletcher’s hands. She didn’t say anything, but left his words hanging in the air between them for a few minutes. Two or three times, she looked like she would say something, but she shook her head and kept quiet, studying Fletcher’s face. He had a hard time maintaining eye contact.

  Finally, he couldn’t hold her gaze any longer. “What?” he asked, looking past her shoulder.

  She squeezed his hands but said nothing, no longer looking at his face. She kept hold of his hands but stared at the floor.

  What was she thinking? Had he hurt her? Had he ruined something? Was she so worried about Nick that she couldn’t speak about it?

  After what felt like forever, he said, “Hadley? Can you talk to me?”

  When she looked up to meet his eyes, hers were full of tears.

  He slid his arm around her shoulder. “He’ll be okay,” he offered, even though he didn’t know it was true.

  She shook her head. “You don’t get it,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Fletch, it’s not your fault.” She took a deep breath. “It’s sad and scary to me that you think you somehow should have been able to anticipate this accident so you could have prevented it. That’s not your job.”

  He leaned away from her and crossed his arms over his chest, and as soon as he did, he realized that he was projecting all the wrong body language. He looked defensive, but he needed to be confident, sincere. He wanted her to really hear him. He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, held his fists together. “The problem is, that’s where you’re wrong. It’s exactly my job.”

  Seeing her confusion, he wished he was more eloquent, that he could use his words in a way that would make better sense to her. “I trained for years to know how buildings would react to fire damage. I trained for years to know how fire would react to pressure and wind and temperature. I am supposed to be able to anticipate accidents and prevent them. That is literally my job. And I didn’t do it.”

  She blinked and a tear slid down each cheek. He reached over and wiped them away.

  She looked up at him with an expression that might have held any number of emotions. He thought he saw more positive than negative. “That’s a lot of pressure,” she said.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “Great privilege, great responsibility, all that superhero stuff.”

  “But you love it, right?” Hadley sounded desperate to hear him say yes, so of course, he complied.

  “I do love it. It’s what I was meant to do.�
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  “No matter what, no matter what other people say?”

  Fletcher had never pretended to be the most sensitive guy in the world, but he could feel the shift in their conversation. He could tell they weren’t only talking about his job anymore.

  He moved sideways in his chair so he faced Hadley more directly. “Passionate people live with the possibility that their actions will always disappoint or offend someone, but passionate people have to do what they were born to do.”

  “And you were born to save people.” Hadley’s voice choked on her words.

  “And you were born to bring them joy.”

  She blinked away more tears.

  He leaned closer. “Hadley, I’m sorry I gave you a bad time about your store. I love it, you know. I think it’s about the most Hadley place in the world. And you’re amazing and creative and brave to put it all together. I made it sound like I think it’s weak. It’s not. You’re strong and your shop is strong. You’ve done something amazing.”

  Tears spilled from her eyes now, but her face was lit up with a smile. “How is it possible that you get me so well?” she asked.

  “I’ve always understood you,” he whispered.

  She wiped her face and shook her head. Looking at the floor, she said, “Not always.”

  Fletcher could tell she had more to add, but several moments passed before she spoke again. When she did, her voice was quiet.

  “You couldn’t have known how much it would break my heart when you left, or you wouldn’t have done it. I’m not sure I ever truly recovered.”

  Winded, Fletcher waited to hear her take it back.

  She didn’t.

  “Hang on a minute,” Fletcher said, raising her head so she had to look at him. “You’re the one who left.” He kept his voice low, but she had to hear the pain there.

  “No. You broke up with me. You said goodbye. You decided we were over.”

  All of these words came at Fletcher like shrapnel from a blast. Each accusation burned a new hole in his skin, leaving him feeling scathed and vulnerable.

  “Is that really what you think?”

  Hadley stood, stepping away from him.

  When she spoke, her voice was brittle. “It’s not a matter of opinion, Fletcher. You came to my place. You told me that we were through. You never called me again.” The tears in her eyes were overpowered by the anger in her expression. “It’s not exactly a debatable topic.”

  “But—” he began. How was it even possible that she could see things this way?

  She stopped him. “Let’s be grownups about this. It’s been seven years. You’ve moved on. I’ve made a life for myself. We are what we are, and we can’t be what we chose not to be.” She turned away and walked toward the intake desk.

  “Hadley, wait,” he said.

  She shook her head and kept walking.

  He jumped out of his seat and strode after her. Before she made it to the triage nurses, he took hold of her arm.

  “Please, don’t walk away from me again. Can we please finish this?”

  She shook her head, tears spilling from her eyes. Her voice was steady as she said, “You finished this years ago.”

  Pulling away, she swiped at her eyes and stepped up to the desk. “Can you give me any information about Nick Baxter?”

  The nurse said, “Are you family?”

  Hadley shook her head.

  “Sorry,” the nurse answered, as if that were any kind of an answer. Fletcher felt Hadley’s disappointment, and could imagine how frustrated she must feel. He didn’t want to make it worse by implying that he could get information out of the nurses (particularly because he actually could get information out of the nurses), so he stepped away.

  After Hadley began a solitary lap around the waiting room, Fletcher approached the nurses. “Can you get a message to the woman with Nick Baxter? Can you let her know that Hadley is here to check on her? I think she’s got her phone turned off.”

  “Sure,” the nurse said.

  Fletcher pretended not to notice Hadley walk circles around the waiting room. But of course he noticed.

  A few minutes later, Fletcher watched an exhausted and teary Savanna step through the privacy door and into the waiting room.

  He stayed back while Hadley ran and wrapped Savanna in her arms. Watching the women give and receive comfort, he remembered what a gift Hadley had for consolation. She always knew how to make horrible things bearable.

  One of the things he regretted about when his dad died was that he hadn’t had Hadley there with him. She would have known what to say, what to do, and what to avoid. But it would have been impossible. Impossible to ask her there, impossible to feel anything but awkward had she simply shown up.

  Savanna looked over her shoulder and caught Fletcher’s eye. She pointed to the ICU entrance, an invitation in her glance.

  Fletcher nodded and headed to the door, where the nurses buzzed him in. He tried to breathe normally as he approached his friend, but he couldn’t forget how he should have been there to prevent all of this.

  Chapter 18

  Hadley settled Savanna in a hard, plastic chair and let her unload. Savanna spoke of the past several hours of sitting by Nick’s bedside, ducking out of the way of doctors, nurses, orderlies, janitors—everyone in the hospital seemed to need to get into his room and witness his unresponsiveness.

  “It’s awful, Hadley,” Savanna said, her exhaustion overtaking her grief enough that her words came out flat and emotionless. “I can smell fire. I know it’s unreasonable, but I swear, the smell of smoke is clouding up the room. He’s lying there, eyes closed, a tube shoved down his throat, getting poked and prodded and pushed, and there’s nothing of Nick there. He doesn’t even look like himself. No laughing, no silly grins, no eagerness to please. Seeing him like that…it’s scary.”

  “But he’s going to be fine?” Hadley asked, her voice as unsure as she felt.

  “Since I’m not family, they can’t tell me anything. The doctor says things are looking good, for whatever that’s worth. I don’t know what things, or to what extent they’re good. When the nurse told me you were here, I just had to get out of there and see someone who would look me in the eye.”

  Hadley nodded. “What do you need?”

  Savanna let out a sound that might have passed for a laugh under different circumstances. “Coffee? A sandwich?”

  “I just happen to have the residue of the worst family Thanksgiving meal ever. I mean, the food was great. But the family part… Come on. Let’s feed you, and then we can regroup.”

  Savanna allowed herself to be led out into the parking lot. “Do you think it’s unfeeling and callous of me to be hungry right now?”

  Hadley shook her head. “Let’s call it ‘biologically responsible’ and move on.”

  The two women leaned over the open trunk of Hadley’s car, pulling slices of turkey out of the foil-covered dish and eating them with their fingers.

  “You have to eat this pie, though,” Hadley offered. “Hang on.” She went around to the passenger seat and rummaged through the glove box until she found a plastic spoon. “I promise that this is cleaner than it would be if it wasn’t in the glove box,” she said, handing the spoon to Savanna.

  “I’m about ready to attack this pie with my bare hands. Germs and dirt and dog hair mean very little to me right now.” They leaned against the side of the car as Savanna ate bite after bite of Rose’s delicious pie.

  When she slowed down, Hadley had to ask. “So, how much were the doctors and nurses willing to tell you since…”

  Savanna licked a morsel of pie off the corner of her mouth. Swallowing again, she finished Hadley’s thought. “Since Nick and I have been together for approximately fifteen minutes?”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to say it that way. But since you did, yeah. That.” Hadley found Savanna a napkin and tucked the empty pie plate back in the trunk.

  “They tell me nearly nothing, but since the first respond
ers get privileges, the boys get more info than I do. I think they would have shut me out completely, but Fletcher told them I was Nick’s girlfriend. He made it happen.” Savanna shrugged. “Maybe he’s not so bad.”

  Hadley’s laugh felt like the response to getting punched in the stomach. “Maybe he’s exactly what he’s always been.”

  “What do you mean?” Savanna asked.

  Hadley shook her head. “Nothing. Never mind.”

  Savanna put her hands on Hadley’s shoulders. “I know that look,” she said. “What happened?”

  There was not a good way to tell this and keep her pride, so Hadley just ran with it. “It’s possible that I confessed that I’d never gotten over him, and he denied leaving me.”

  Savanna shook her head, and Hadley felt a rush of relief that her friend was on her side, unable to believe what a pig Fletcher Gates was. It had been a common thread in many of their discussions lately. But when Savanna spoke, she did not say what Hadley imagined she would.

  “I’m pretty sure you did the leaving, Had.”

  Words wouldn’t come. Hadley shook her head, mouth open, and stared at her tired, haggard friend. She couldn’t even tell her she had pie on the corner of her mouth. There simply were no words.

  “Honey?” Savanna reached over and put her hand on Hadley’s shoulder. “You told him to go.”

  “I did no such thing. And how would you even know that?” She didn’t mean for the words to come out quite so stabby. “Sorry. But how,” she asked, more softly this time, “would you even know that?”

  Savanna shrugged. “Nick told me.”

  “Okay, now that’s just nonsense.” Hadley collected all her righteous anger. “You and Nick have been together for like, twelve seconds. How in the world would my seven-years-dead relationship with Fletcher Gates even come up?”