We sit in silence for a moment, the swing rocks gently under our combined weight. The afternoon sun filters through the trees, casting shadows across the porch.
“I keep thinking about Dorothy,” Rachel says quietly. “About how she was supposed to be at both fires but wasn’t. And I was there instead.”
“Marco told us about the pattern. That Dorothy left the café right before the fire and called in sick the day of the library fire.”
“It’s not a coincidence. It can’t be.” She picks up her phone again, then sets it back down like she can’t decide what to do with her hands. “Someone’s trying to hurt her, and I keep accidentally getting in the way.”
“Or someone’s trying to hurt you, and Dorothy’s the distraction.”
“That makes even less sense. Who would want to hurt me? I’m nobody. I managed a café that no longer exists. I’m a single mom with no money and an ex who hates me. I’m not important enough to target.”
“You’re important.” The words come out before I can stop them. “You matter, Rachel. To a lot of people.”
She looks at me then. Really looks at me. “Theo—”
“I know this is bad timing. I know you’re dealing with enough without me making it more complicated.” I set my water bottle down and turn to face her properly. “But I need you to know that when I saw that library burning, when I knew you were inside, I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. All I could focus on was getting you and Tommy out.”
“You were doing your job.”
“It wasn’t about the job. It was about you.” I reach out and take her hand. “When Cole carried you out of that first fire at the café and I saw you covered in soot and shaking, something broke open in my chest. This feeling I’ve been trying to ignore forweeks because it’s inconvenient and complicated and probably a terrible idea.”
“What feeling?”
“That I care about you. Deeply. More than I should.” I squeeze her hand gently. “That the thought of anything happening to you makes me want to fight the world to keep you safe.”
Her eyes are shining. Not quite tears, but close. “Theo, we can’t—”
“I know all the reasons we can’t. Jake’s my friend. You’re dealing with Derek, job hunting, and internet trolls calling you cursed. You’ve got Tommy to think about. You don’t need some guy showing up and confessing feelings you didn’t ask for.” I don’t let go of her hand. “But I also know that life’s too short to pretend I don’t feel what I feel. And I feel a lot when it comes to you.”
“I care about you, too.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “But I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t know how to make this work when everything else in my life is falling apart.”
“You don’t have to figure it out right now. You don’t have to make any decisions or promises or commitments.” I bring her hand up and press a kiss to her knuckles. “I just need you to know that you’re not alone. That someone cares whether you’re okay. That’s when buildings are burning and internet strangers are being cruel and your ex is threatening custody, you’ve got people in your corner who will fight for you.”
“This is insane. You know that, right? All of this. The fires, the feelings, the fact that I’m sitting here holding hands with my brother’s best friend while my life implodes around me.”
“Insanity is underrated. Normal’s boring.”
She laughs. Slight sound, but genuine. “You’re ridiculous.”
“That’s what they tell me.” I smile. “But I’m your ridiculous. If you want me.”
“I don’t know what I want. Except maybe for buildings to stop burning down around me.”
“That seems like a reasonable request.”
We sit there on the swing, hands still linked, neither of us moving to go back inside. The afternoon stretches into early evening. Through the window, I can see Marco and Cole still talking in the living room. Tommy’s probably fallen asleep with his dragon book.
Eventually, Rachel’s phone buzzes. She glances at the screen and sighs.
“Derek. Third call today.”
“You don’t have to answer.”
“I know. But if I don’t, he’ll keep calling.” She pulls her hand from mine and stands up. “I should deal with this.”
“You want me to stay? In case he’s being an ass?”
“He’s always being an ass. That’s his default setting.” But she doesn’t tell me to leave. “You can stay if you want.”
