Rekindled Hearts

The door slammed. Wind wailed outside, roaring like a train about to come off the tracks. More glass shattering. And then the windows in the basement. Lexi ducked as a pipe in the basement ceiling fell.

It was an old house, and the upstairs hardwood floor and underlying support beams were the ceiling for the basement. Pipes and electric wires crisscrossed the big, open room, making it not the safest place to be in a tornado. She preferred the storage room in the far corner of the basement.

“Lexi, here it is.” Colt took the last step and was halfway across the room when the house above them splintered and crackled. “Run to the storage room.”

Colt’s voice was drowned out by the roaring wind. He reached them, grabbing the dog and pushing behind her. A board splintered and fell. Lexi tried to duck, but the board hit the arm she lifted to shield herself and then it hit her head.

Crashing and roaring filled her ears and the world tilted. Colt was behind her, pushing her forward.

“Don’t fall, Lexi. Keep moving.”

“I can’t.” She was dizzy and her eyes clouded for a second. Her legs buckled and she felt Colt’s arm against hers. Her ears popped and her lungs heaved for air. “I can’t.”

“Five more steps. You can.” He shoved with his shoulder and they were in the storage room, the door slamming behind him. The building shuddered around them.

A house over one hundred years old and today it gave up. Lexi cried because the house had history. The house had stood the test of time.

It was the one thing in her life that had been sturdy and unwavering. It had a history that she had wanted, of families growing up and growing old together. As she ran to the far corner of the room, she knew the house was falling in around them.

Her ears were filled with the sound of glass shattering and wood splintering, and behind her, the ragged breath of her ex-husband as he moved them to safety.

“You’re bleeding.” Colt laid the dog on the floor and glanced over his shoulder as Lexi dropped to the ground, leaning her head on her knees until her vision cleared. “Lexi, stay awake.”

“Don’t yell. My life is crumbling in around me and you’re yelling.”

“This is a house, not your life.”

She watched as he slid the needle into the dog, the way she’d taught him. She missed their marriage. She missed him in the morning, waking her up with coffee, his hair tousled and more blond in the summer than the winter.

She missed getting up later than him. He’d be gone, but the bathroom would still smell like his deodorant and his cologne. She missed his scent on her pillow.

Her head really hurt. She bent, resting her forehead on knees she pulled to her chest.

“Stop.” His voice was gruff, emotional.

“Stop what?” She looked up and blinked a few times. Pain throbbed and she touched her head. Her hand came away damp. She looked down at the blood on her fingers, mesmerized and confused.

“You’re talking about the past, about us, like this is the end. This isn’t the end, Lexi. We’re both alive.” Colt moved to her side, a folded towel in his hand. He dabbed at her head and then held the towel with pressure that made her wince.

“Not so hard.” She bit down on her lip and looked up, meeting blue eyes that connected with hers and didn’t look away. “I didn’t know I was talking.”

His laughter was soft and his eyes crinkled at the corners. He kept the towel on her head. “You were talking, and I’m honored. But you need to stay awake.”

“I’m awake.” She leaned back against the wall and thought she felt it heave with the pressure of the storm and the falling building. “You should be out there, helping other people.”

“I doubt I can do that right now. Let’s talk. I know you can talk, even when you’re tired.”

“And you always fall asleep when I’m talking.”

“Midnight isn’t the best time for heartfelt conversations.”

“When is the best time? Or is there ever a right time?” She leaned against his shoulder, her eyes focusing on the sleeping dog. “I love that dog.”

“I’m sorry. Lexi, let’s not talk about the past or the dog.”

“We don’t have a future, so what else do we talk about?” She felt a little sick to her stomach. He probably didn’t want to hear that. “I’m going to be sick.”

“Okay. It’s okay.” But he held her close, as if he was afraid she’d slip away. “Don’t go to sleep, Lex.”

“I’m not. It’s just a…”

“A cut.” He supplied the word. “Do you remember what day it is?”

“Tuesday?”

“Nope.” He moved and slid away from her. “It’s Friday, July tenth. I’m going to see if I can call for help, or get us out of here.”

“Don’t leave me.”

He paused, his hand on the door, his uniform covered in her blood and Chico’s. “I’m not leaving you, Lex.”

She would have nodded, but her head hurt when she moved. And hadn’t he already left her? Hadn’t he packed his bags and walked away? He shook his head, as if he knew her thoughts, and walked through the door. A few minutes later he was back. His clothes were now covered with white dust and dirt.

“Well?”

“We’re trapped, I don’t have cell service, and my radio isn’t working.” He slid down the wall and hooked his arm around her to pull her close. “The stairs are blocked with debris, and part of the basement has caved in.”

“You’ll save us. You always do.”

“I wish that was true.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m not sure how to get us out of this one.”

“You’re supposed to be positive.” She leaned forward, sick, and her head ached. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. We’ll be fine. We’ll get out of here.”

She closed her eyes and listened to a world that had become silent. The building groaned above them, creaking a little as the wreckage of her home settled. Warm tears slid down her cheeks. In the distance she heard sirens.

“Can you imagine if this is it for us? What if today was the last day we had?” She opened her eyes and looked up at him, wondering why she had let him go so easily.

“Listen, my optimistic sweetheart, that isn’t you talking.”

“It is me. I’m saying, what if this is how we told the story of our lives? That we gave up.” She leaned against him, her head aching and nausea twisting her stomach. The words were definitely more maudlin than she’d intended.

“At least we’re together.” He murmured into her hair and his breath was soft and minty.

“Yes, together?” Her eyes were getting heavy and she didn’t know if she could keep her promise to stay awake. “I’m so tired.”

“Lexi, don’t sleep.” He sat her up, shaking her a little.