I sigh, pursing my lips and leaning into him again, burying my head in the crook of his neck beneath his jaw.
“I had an interview today.”
“That’s what Colleen said,” he says gently, rubbing his hand down my arm again. “What was it for?”
“A job.”
“Teddy,” he growls low, tilting his head down toward mine. I let out a small huff of a laugh. It’s kind of fun annoying this man.
I inhale deeply, taking in his scent that is becoming achingly familiar to me. “It’s a job with Sky Ridge as a dispatcher.”
“And that is cause for an anxiety attack?” he asks gently.
I groan lightly, doing a weird yes-no bobble thing with myhead. “Do I have to start at the beginning, or just a quick run through?”
“You tell me whatever you’re comfortable telling me,” Xander says quietly, squeezing me close again. “If you want to skim, that’s okay. If you want to talk it out, that’s okay, too. I’ll listen.”
I nod, the top of my head shifting beneath his chin. “Even if I have to talk about Logan?”
He squeezes me tighter, nodding. “Even then.”
Sighing heavily, I whisper, “You know Logan and I worked together?” He nods against the top of my head, so I continue. “I’m sure you know he was an EMT, and I worked as a dispatcher in the same district. We worked side by side for a decade, and I loved my job.” I squeeze my eyes shut tight, holding onto him even tighter. He must sense the shift in me, because he wraps both arms around me. We’re cocooned together in this little booth, the coffee shop around us disappearing. “What do you know about Logan’s accident?”
“I know the basics, just what Cal shared. He was an EMT. Sent out on a call in the middle of winter and got struck by a passing vehicle while trying to load into the ambulance.”
Pain slices through me all over again, like it happened yesterday and not almost a year ago. Throat tight with emotion, I manage to whisper, “I was the dispatcher that sent him out on that call.”
“Fuck,” he whispers on a groan, holding me closer. “Teddy…”
“I wasn’t even supposed to be working that night. Penny was sick earlier in the week with a double ear infection and I’d swapped shifts so I could stay home with her. I was exhausted from being up with Penny for days, we had just found out I was pregnant with Bea, and I had terrible morning sickness…” I shake my head, the memories assaulting me all over again. “It was snowing, and an older gentleman had slid off the road into a ditch and hit his head. It should have been a minor call, quick in-and-out. I remember wondering why it was taking so long to hear back from them, annoyed even, that he hadn’t called to say they were back at the station.” I take a deep, steadying breath in and let it out slowly. Then I whisper, “And then I answered the call and found out my husband was dead at an accident I’d sent him to.”
Xander’s arms are like vices around me and I realize then that I’m shaking from head to toe. Tears rim my eyes and make my vision blurry as he rocks me against him. I haven’t talked about this with anyone outside of grief counseling. It’s not something I’ve been able to vocalize out loud to anyone.
I don’t know what it is about this man that makes me drop all of my shields. All of these carefully crafted concrete walls with steel reinforcements and barbed wire turn to dust around him.
It’s a terrifying revelation.
Something in him makes me want to open up, makes me want to try. Being around Xander reminds me what it’s like to not be so goddamn alone all the time, to not have to suffer through everything on my own. Reminds me what it’s like to have a partner to share things with, all the good and the bad and the ugly.
“I felt responsible for sending him out to that accident. I got my husband killed,” I whisper, my nose stinging with more tears. “I was given bereavement leave, and then never went back. I couldn’t walk into that station, take calls, and send other people's loved ones out. I couldn’t stand the thought of getting someone else killed the way I had gotten Logan killed.”
“That wasn’t your fault,” Xander rasps, his lips moving against my temple. I breathe him in, and then nod slowly. “Please tell me you haven’t gone this whole time blaming yourself for what happened.”
“I could say that but I’d be lying,” I laugh lightly, settling into his embrace. “Logically I know it was a freak accident. Oneof those perfect storm situations that none of us could have seen coming. But yes, I still blame myself. So going to this interview today just… brought everything back. I loved my job. I was good at my job,” I huff, shaking my head. “But the idea of sending those deputies, EMT’s, and firemen out on calls knowing I could very well be the reason they don’t get to go home to their families… It's debilitating.”
“You would not be the reason they don’t come home,” he whispers, rocking me gently. “Every person in this profession knows the risks and are willing to take those risks to help others. A freak accident, a fireman not making it out of a structure fire, an officer being injured: none of those things would ever come out to being your fault, Teddy. It’s…” he sighs heavily, pressing his cheek to the top of my head, “…it’s the reality of the job, and even though it’s not fair, we know what we’re getting ourselves into.”
I swallow around more tears. Hearing him lumped into that is terrifying, too. Because he’s right, he’s right there along with them, running headfirst into danger without a glance back. Same as Cal. Same as Scottie, my—hopefully—soon to be sister-in-law. I would be working directly with Scottie, since she works for Sky Ridge EMS.
“I couldn’t forgive myself if I sent Scottie out to a call and she didn’t make it home to Cal,” I croak, tears strangling me. I shake my head then, rolling my eyes at how ridiculous I’m being, but I can’t help it. “I don’t know that I’m ready for this. God, I’m such a baby.”
“How many people did you help in your decade at Cedar Valley, Teddy?” he asks, tilting my chin up. Embarrassed at the tears streaking my face, I try to lower my face from him, but he’s having none of it. “How many times did you answer that phone and you were the person on the other end of the line, helping a total stranger through the worst time in their lives? How many people did you save, sweetheart?” He strokes my cheek gently,reverently, as he stares down at me, and more tears slip down my cheeks. “You can’t let the absolute worst-case scenario be your measure of normal, or let that keep you from doing a job that you know you can do. A job you know you are great at.”
God, this man. If he were any more perfect, he’d be a unicorn.
“Do you miss it?” he asks then, smoothing my hair away from my face and swiping his thumb across my cheek, swiping away the trail of tears that I’m almost positive have smudged the little bit of makeup I had on.
“So much,” I answer honestly, my lip wobbling.
