Tess allowed Art to hold her as the police and ambulance crew swept in. The acrid tang of smoke filled her nostrils, permeating both the air around her and the small amount of clothing she wore. She wondered how long it would be before she wouldn’t be able to smell smoke again. She had the feeling it would take a lot longer than a fresh set of clothes and a wash.

“Are you folks okay?” asked a paramedic, as he hunkered down beside them.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” Art said. “Just suffering from the smoke.”

The paramedic’s gaze flicked over them both, a slight frown marking his brow as Tess started to cough again, her hand hiding her mouth.

“Let’s take you in, and get you checked over.”

Art’s bare arms around her tightened. “Okay, but we’re riding in the ambulance together.”

“That should be fine.”

The fire department had entered the building from the front, dragging huge hoses through the big windows of the shop. The sound of the fire surprised her more than anything. It was as though a roaring dragon had swallowed the building, and was now being drowned by a river. When she’d thought about a fire in the past, she’d known it would be hot and smoky, but she’d never considered the racket it would make.

The police arrived to assess the scene and were pointed in their direction as Tess and Art made their way to the ambulance on the main road, Art with his arm around her waist and a silver foil blanket around his shoulders.

“Any idea what happened here?” a young officer asked.

Art shook his head. “Bad wiring, perhaps. I’m really not sure.”

She felt a pang of guilt. He’d told her the building hadn’t been maintained properly, but she hadn’t really listened. She wasn’t completely to blame—after all, she hadn’t been responsible for her aunt, she’d had enough of her own shit to deal with—but maybe a little part of her had wondered if he’d only said it as a ploy to keep the rent down.

But he’d saved her life, and risked his own to do so. Art could have easily run out the door as soon as he’d noticed the fire, but he’d come upstairs and rescued her instead. He said he cared about her, and the way he held her, as though he was terrified that if he let go she might vanish from existence, made her believe him.

***

THEY STAYED TOGETHER in the hospital. After the doctors had checked them over they were both declared to be generally unharmed, but the doctors wanted to keep them in for a few more hours for observations. They were fine with that. It wasn’t as though they had anywhere else to go.

Tess sat with Art holding her hands. His thumb stroked her wrists and the multitude of lines marking her skin.

“Do you want to tell me what happened now?” he asked her.

“I lost someone,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“A boyfriend?” he guessed.

She nodded. “Yes, but he was more than that. We grew up together. He was my best friend as well. He was my everything.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Tess.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“When did it happen?”

“He died about a year ago, but it was a long time coming. He had cancer. I thought I was ready to lose him, that it was something I’d prepared myself for. I’d even thought that it would be a relief when he finally went, that he was no longer in pain, and I could move on with my life. But then he died and there was just this huge hole where he’d been. I guess being with Brett had been all consuming, taking care of him, thinking about him. My life had revolved around him. Then in a blink of an eye, he was gone, and I didn’t know what to do with myself any more. Everything just felt empty and pointless, and everywhere I turned I was reminded of him. His presence touched every single place in our town, everywhere I looked I could see not where he’d been, but what he was never going to see again. For the first month or so, I just figured I was sad because I’d lost him. My friends tried to take me out, but I refused. I didn’t show up for work. I could barely bring myself to get out of bed and take a shower. I struggled to see the point in it all, when we could just be here one day, and then gone the next. What was the point in working, in building a career or a home, when you could step out of the door one day and never come home?”

He was staring at her, his blue eyes filled with sorrow. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

She shook her head and continued with her story. “I thought I was just sad because I’d lost my best friend in the whole world. But I lost all perspective. I just couldn’t see past it—the sadness was all consuming.”

“Didn’t anyone suggest you were depressed? That you needed to speak to someone, or see a doctor and get medication?”

“I think they thought it was understandable I was feeling that way. They’d seen Brett die as well. They were all missing him, too. Maybe if my dad had still been alive, he’d have noticed something was wrong, but I was on my own. My friends had their own lives. They came and visited me, and maybe I hid it well when they did. I got out of bed, and washed my hair, and drank coffee with them, and smiled when I was supposed to, but it was all just an act. It was always a relief when they left and I was able to crawl back into bed. I couldn’t see a way I’d ever feel any different. People said it got better with time, but it didn’t. It got worse. I started....” She had to force the words out, still filled with such shame... “Cutting. It made me feel better for a short time. But then the cutting wasn’t enough anymore, and I just wanted it to end.”

He took her hands, pulling her closer. “I can’t stand to think of you being in so much pain.”

“I knew I’d made a mistake the moment I’d done it, the moment I’d pulled the blade across both wrists and saw the blood turning the water red. It was like a light bulb went on in my head, and I knew I wanted to live. I grabbed a towel and managed to make it to the phone and call nine-one-one before I passed out. They broke down the door and found me unconscious. I got help after that—put on anti-depressants, which I’m still taking now—and saw a therapist. I got better, but I was still struggling with seeing memories of Brett everywhere. Then I got the letter to say my aunt had died and I’d inherited this place. I had a British passport because of my father, so I was able to come here, and it just made sense. I didn’t want to forget Brett, but I couldn’t live my life being tortured by memories of him.”

“You needed to start again.”

She sniffed and nodded. “Yes, exactly.”

“I wish I’d been kinder to you when you first arrived. I feel like shit that you were going through all of that, and I was being a dick because I was pissed off that you’d increased the rent and were moving in upstairs.”

“It doesn’t matter. I needed to figure out how to function in the normal world again.” She risked a smile. “You were like a baptism of fire. Literally.”

He laughed. “That doesn’t sound like a good thing.”

“It was in the end.”

Art’s gaze caught hers and drew her in. “Do you ever wonder if two people are thrown together for a reason?” he asked. “I can’t help feeling like you were meant to be in my life, Tess. We’re from two different parts of the world, and in many ways nothing alike, and yet I feel more connected to you than any other person in my life. It’s like you were meant to be here, for me to be able to help you, for you to be able to help me, too.”

“I haven’t helped you, Art. All I’ve done is thrown a whole heap of complications into your life.”

“You’re wrong. You have helped me. You’ve given my life meaning other than my work. I mean, I love what I do, you know that as much as anyone, but you’ve made it feel full. Complete.”

His thumbs ran over her wrists, the lines crawling up them. “How do you feel about these?”

“I hate them. They’re like another reminder of all the pain and loss, but I can’t run away from this.”

“So let me tattoo them for you. You’ll still have the scars, I can never take them away completely, and maybe that’s a good thing, maybe you should keep something that reminds you how precious life is, but I can cover something horrible that happened to you with something beautiful.”

Tears filled her eyes. “You’d do that?”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you.”

“I’ll pay you for your work.”

“No, you won’t. If I can help complete strangers, than I can sure as hell help the woman I love.”

Her heart caught at his words. “You love me?”

He smiled. “I’m crazy about you. Obsessed. Me, the guy who never got attached to women, who always focused on the guys and work. I’ll do anything for you, Tess.”

A smile spread across her face. “I feel the same way. I love you, too.”

And as soon as she said it, she knew it to be true.