Chapter 3

3.

The next morning, I returned to the station looking utterly haggard.

My crew knew I had taken time off for our anniversary.

They teased me, asking if things had gotten too wild in the bedroom last night.

Their innocent jokes brought back the audio of that phone call, making my eyes burn with unshed tears.

I forced a stiff smile onto my face.

After brushing them off with a few vague words, I retreated to the bunk room.

A short while later, the alarm blared.

A little boy had fallen from the seventh floor and was currently trapped between the fourth and fifth floors.

The situation was critical.

Since the rest of the unit was handling a major fire across town, only three colleagues and I were dispatched.

As the engine pulled into that all-too-familiar neighborhood, my heart pounded wildly.

The moment the truck stopped, I saw Janelle in the crowd, her eyes bloodshot with terror.

The man beside her spotted us and immediately rushed over, grabbing my arm.

"Please, man! You saved Jack from the fire last time. I'm begging you, save him again!"

When Janelle turned and saw my face, pure panic flashed across her features.

Yet seeing her again brought an eerie calm over me.

I gave a curt nod and prepared my gear.

As I brushed past Janelle, she grabbed my wrist, her eyes swimming with desperate tears.

"Please, I'm begging you."

I pulled my hand free, my voice completely devoid of emotion.

"It's just my job, ma'am."

The rescue started smoothly, but as I scooped the child into my arms and reached for the aerial ladder, the awning beneath my feet gave way.

In freefall, my instincts took over, and I wrapped my body around the boy to shield him.

We slammed onto the safety cushion below.

Because we landed near the edge, half of my body smashed hard against the concrete pavement.

A cry of agony escaped my lips.

Janelle rushed over in a panic, and for a fleeting second, I thought she was checking on me.

Instead, she frantically reached for the boy in my arms.

"Jack! Are you okay? How do you people do your jobs? Didn't you secure the area? If anything happens to my son―"

"Babe!" the man snapped, quickly cutting her off.

He apologized profusely to me, explaining that his wife was just terrified out of her mind and spoke without thinking.

Janelle looked at me in horror, stammering, "I'm sorry… I was just so scared… please don't…"

I closed my eyes for a beat, then cut her off.

"It's fine. You're his mother. I understand completely."

I placed deliberate emphasis on the word mother.

Janelle caught my meaning instantly, and every drop of color drained from her face.

Two ambulances were waiting on standby, swiftly transporting the boy and me to the emergency room.

After the scans, the doctor told me I had fractured left ribs and a dislocated left shoulder. Luckily, I had shifted my weight to the right during the fall, or the damage would have been catastrophic.

Janelle followed her son to the pediatric ward.

Meanwhile, her husband came to my bedside to express his gratitude and apologize again.

He thanked me for saving his son twice and apologized for Janelle's terrible behavior.

I shook my head faintly. "I was just doing my duty."

Through our brief conversation, I learned his name was Garrett Taylor. He and Janelle had been married for seven years after meeting through a blind date.

He also mentioned that Janelle's job kept her extremely busy, and she spent half of every month away from home.

Watching Garrett walk away, a bleak chill settled deep in my chest.

Janelle and I had been together for five years, but she had been married to him for seven.

Without ever knowing it, I had been the other man in someone else's marriage for five whole years.