Chapter 1
Maya woke up before the sun.
Her eyes opened to the dim glow of dawn creeping through the curtains, but she didn't move. She lay still, staring at the ceiling, listening to the soft sound of Carina’s breathing beside her.
For a moment, everything felt normal. Safe.
But then the memories came rushing back.
The wildfire. The relentless, all-consuming flames. The unbearable heat licking at her skin, the thick smoke clawing at her lungs, the deafening roar of destruction surrounding her.
And the worst part—there had been no way out.
Maya swallowed hard, her throat tightening. She turned onto her side, gaze settling on Carina, who was still asleep, her dark hair tousled against the pillow, her hand resting gently over her growing belly.
She looked peaceful. Unaware.
Unaware that Maya had almost never come back to her.
Maya exhaled shakily, her fingers itching to reach out, to touch, to make sure Carina was real. She wanted to press her ear against Carina’s stomach, to hear the life growing inside, to remind herself that she hadn’t lost this—hadn’t lost her family.
But the fire still felt too close.
She had always thought of herself as fearless. Fires never scared her. They were just obstacles to overcome, challenges to face head-on. But this time, she had been scared.
Because there had been nowhere to run.
The fire had surrounded her in the middle of the forest, cutting off every path, every escape. Just her and the inferno, closing in.
For the first time in her life, Maya had truly believed she was going to die.
She had imagined Carina getting the call.
She had imagined never holding Liam.
She had imagined everything slipping away, just like that.
And now, lying in bed beside her wife, Maya couldn't shake the feeling that she had already lost something—something she couldn’t name.
Her chest ached, her hands curling into fists against the sheets. She had survived, but at what cost?
The first thing Carina felt was warmth.
Even before she fully woke up, she knew Maya was beside her—close, present, but tense. It wasn’t the soft, relaxed presence Carina usually felt when they woke up together. It was something heavier, something tight and unmoving.
She stirred slightly, blinking herself awake, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. As her vision adjusted, she turned to Maya—and immediately, her heart clenched.
Maya was awake.
Not just awake, but lost in thought. Her eyes were open, staring blankly at the ceiling, her lips slightly parted as if she was holding back something. And then Carina saw it—the faint glisten of unshed tears in her wife’s eyes.
Carina frowned, immediately pushing herself up onto one elbow.
“Maya?” she murmured, voice still thick with sleep but laced with concern.
Maya startled slightly, as if she hadn’t realized Carina was awake. She blinked a few times, quickly swiping a hand over her eyes before turning to her with a small, forced smile.
“Hey,” she whispered.
Carina wasn’t fooled.
She reached out, brushing her fingers gently over Maya’s cheek, her thumb catching a stray tear that had escaped. “What’s wrong, amore mio?”
Maya hesitated for just a fraction of a second, and Carina could see the battle happening inside her. The urge to speak, to share—and the equally strong urge to bury it, to hide it away.
Then, instead of answering, Maya reached up, tucking a strand of Carina’s hair behind her ear. Her fingers lingered against her skin, soft and warm.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Carina’s breath hitched slightly at the sudden confession.
It wasn’t that Maya didn’t say it often—she did. But this was different. This wasn’t the casual I love you before rushing out the door, or the sleepy I love you mumbled into her neck before bed.
This was something else.
Something heavier.
Something that carried the weight of whatever had been sitting on Maya’s chest all morning.
Carina studied her wife’s face, searching, trying to read between the lines. But Maya just smiled again—small, tired, but trying.
Carina knew Maya. Knew when to push, and when to wait.
And right now, Maya wasn’t ready.
So instead of pressing, Carina softened, leaning into Maya’s touch. She reached up, taking her wife’s hand in hers and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “I love you.” she whispered back, letting her voice be steady, grounding.
Maya exhaled slowly, like those words were something she needed to hear.
Carina squeezed her hand, then suddenly sat up, stretching her arms above her head.
Maya blinked. “Where are you going?”
Carina smirked, slipping out of bed. “Just wait here.”
Maya frowned, watching as her wife disappeared into the other room. The sound of cabinets opening and closing, dishes clinking together, filled the silence.
Maya sighed, running a hand down her face.
Carina had seen right through her.
Of course she had.
Maya wasn’t sure why she thought she could hide it. She wasn’t sure why she even tried. Carina always knew when something was wrong, and even more than that—she always felt it.
But instead of prying, instead of demanding answers Maya wasn’t ready to give, Carina had just been there.
And now, she was doing something.
Maya didn’t know what, exactly, but she already felt lighter just knowing Carina was thinking of her.
A few minutes later, Carina returned, carrying a small tray.
Maya’s brow furrowed. “What’s all this?”
Carina smirked as she set the tray down on the bed. “Breakfast in bed.”
Maya glanced down at the two cups of coffee, the small plate of french toast, the fresh fruit neatly arranged on the side. She let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking her head. “You really are ridiculous, you know that?”
Carina shrugged, sitting back down beside her. “You seemed like you could use something sweet.”
Maya swallowed, something thick lodging itself in her throat.
It wasn’t about the breakfast.
It was about Carina seeing her, knowing without needing to be told that something was wrong, and choosing to love her through it.
Maya turned to her wife, her heart aching in the best way possible. “You didn’t have to do this.”
Carina just gave her a knowing look. “I wanted to.”
Maya let out a shaky breath, then leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to Carina’s lips.
It was slow, soft—filled with quiet gratitude, unspoken emotions that words could never quite capture.
Carina melted into it, one hand slipping into Maya’s hair, fingers tangling gently in the strands.
When they finally pulled apart, Carina brushed her thumb over Maya’s cheek, smiling softly. “Better?”
Maya nodded, a little breathless. “Yeah,” she whispered.
Carina beamed, pleased with herself. “Good. Now, eat.”
She reached for Carina’s hand instead, squeezing it gently. Then, after a beat, she hesitated before asking, “Can I…?”
Her eyes flickered down to Carina’s stomach, barely showing yet, but already carrying their future.
“Can I say hi to them?”
Carina’s heart melted instantly.
She didn’t hesitate. She simply took Maya’s hand and guided it over her abdomen, pressing it gently against the soft skin.
Maya exhaled shakily, her palm resting flat, her fingers tracing slow circles.
“Hey, little one,” she murmured, her voice softer than Carina had ever heard it. “It’s me. Your other mom.”
Carina smiled, watching the way Maya’s expression softened completely, the weight in her eyes easing just a little.
Maya swallowed hard, blinking a few times. “I can’t wait to meet you,” she whispered. “To hold you. To teach you things. To—” She let out a quiet, breathy laugh, shaking her head. “God, I don’t even know what to say. I just… I already love you so much.”
Carina felt her throat tighten with emotion.
She ran her fingers gently through Maya’s curls, her heart swelling with warmth.
“You’re already an amazing mom,” she whispered.
Maya let out a shaky breath, nodding, still staring down at Carina’s abdomen like she couldn’t believe this was real.
Then, after a moment, she glanced up, her blue eyes meeting Carina’s. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Maya chuckled, reaching for a piece of toast. But before she could take a bite—
A tiny cry echoed from the baby monitor on the nightstand.
They both froze.
Carina let out a small sigh, shaking her head. “Of course.”
Maya grinned, already setting down her toast and swinging her legs over the bed. “I’ll get him.”
Carina watched her go, her heart swelling at the sight of Maya disappearing into the nursery.
She glanced at the untouched breakfast tray and let out a small laugh, shaking her head.
Maybe breakfast in bed would have to wait.
But she didn’t mind.
Because love wasn’t just about big gestures or perfect moments.
It was about mornings like this.
“Maya, give it back.”
Carina stood in the middle of the firehouse bay, hands on her hips, glaring at her wife, who had just snatched a box of medical supplies from her hands.
Maya smirked, hoisting the box higher. “Nope.”
Carina huffed, marching toward her. “Maya, I swear—”
“I’m not letting my pregnant wife carry anything heavy.” Maya grinned as she backed away, holding the box just out of Carina’s reach. “Doctor’s orders.”
Carina groaned, exasperated. “I am a doctor, and I say I am perfectly capable of carrying a small box.”
Maya raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? And what did your doctor say at your last appointment?”
Carina opened her mouth to argue—then shut it just as quickly.
Maya smirked in victory.
“That’s what I thought.” She set the box down on the table. “Now, step aside, dottore. Let the non-pregnant people do the lifting.”
Carina narrowed her eyes. “You are impossible.”
Maya leaned in “And you love me for it.”
Carina sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately.”
Maya chuckled “Now, go do your medical magic while I protect our baby from their reckless mother.”
Carina rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. " Go Bambina. Before I actually murder you in your own firehouse.”
Maya laughed, turning to help the rest of the team set up.
But before she could make it far, the station alarm blared through the firehouse.
“Engine 19, Ladder 19—structure fire. Multiple units responding.”
Maya’s playful grin vanished instantly.
Clinic Day was over.
It was time for work.
The ride to the fire was routine, but Maya couldn’t shake the strange weight in her chest.
She went through the motions—checking her gear, tightening her straps, securing her helmet. But something inside her felt off.
When they pulled up to the scene, her breath caught in her throat.
The fire was massive, swallowing the building whole, black smoke curling into the sky like something alive. Heat radiated from the street, thick and suffocating.
Maya stepped out of the rig, gripping her helmet, but something inside her stalled.
Her breath hitched.
The flames cracked and roared, licking at the structure, spitting embers into the air like angry sparks.
It was too much.
Too familiar.
Her vision blurred, the sound around her warping.
And suddenly—
She wasn’t here anymore.
The wildfire.
The suffocating heat. The endless, roaring flames. The walls of fire, trapping her in, stealing the air from her lungs.
She had been surrounded.
Nowhere to run. Nowhere to breathe.
Her heart pounded in her ears.
Her fingers clenched around nothing—no hose, no radio, no way to fight back.
She was back there.
Trapped.
Suffocating.
Dying.
“Maya!”
A voice cut through the chaos, sharp and urgent.
Maya blinked—hard.
Andy was standing in front of her, her brow furrowed, her voice firm. “Maya, what the hell? We’re moving!”
Maya sucked in a breath, realizing—she had frozen.
She forced herself to nod, to move, but every step felt like she was wading through something thick and unseen.
She adjusted her mask, secured her helmet, focused.
She wasn’t trapped.
She wasn’t in the wildfire.
She was here.
This was just another fire.
But as she stepped closer, something inside her screamed:
You’re not fine.
Maya was still breathing too fast.
She had taken off her turnout coat, stripped out of her gear, wiped the sweat from her forehead. She had done everything right. The fire was out. The call was handled.
Then why did she still feel like she was standing in the middle of the flames?
She clenched her fists, bracing herself against the cool metal of her locker, trying to steady the tremor in her hands.
She barely heard Andy approach.
“Maya.”
Maya shut her eyes. Not now.
“What?” she muttered, trying to sound unaffected.
Andy folded her arms. “You froze out there.”
Maya forced a scoff. “I hesitated.”
“No,” Andy corrected, her tone unwavering. “You froze. You were standing there like you weren’t even there, Maya. And that’s not you.”
Maya’s stomach twisted, but she kept her face blank. “It was just a second.”
Andy’s jaw clenched. “It was more than a second.”
Maya turned away. “I handled it.”
Andy let out a slow breath, studying her. “This is about the wildfire, isn’t it?”
Maya stiffened.
Andy’s eyes widened slightly. “Shit. It is, isn’t it?”
Maya forced a humorless laugh. “Oh, come on, Andy—”
“Maya?”
The voice that spoke was not Andy’s.
Maya’s entire body froze.
She turned—and found Carina standing in the doorway.
The realization on her wife’s face was immediate.
Maya didn’t need to explain. Carina had heard.
The silence was suffocating.
“Maya,” Carina said again, stepping closer. “What is she talking about?”
Maya clenched her jaw.
Andy cleared her throat, awkwardly glancing between them before stepping back. “I’ll let you two talk.”
Then, she was gone.
And now it was just them.
Carina took another step forward. “Tell me the truth.”
Maya swallowed. “It’s nothing.”
Carina’s eyes darkened. “Maya.”
Maya clenched her fists.
Then, finally, she let out a slow breath.
“I almost didn’t make it out,” she admitted.
Carina’s breath hitched.
Maya kept going, her voice too steady, too controlled. “I was trapped in the wildfire. No way out. Nowhere to go. I thought I was going to die.”
Carina stilled.
Maya exhaled. “But I didn’t.”
Silence.
Carina blinked, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “And you didn’t tell me?”
Maya’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Worry me?”
Maya huffed, crossing her arms. “Yeah. You’re pregnant, Carina. I wasn’t going to dump this on you.”
Carina took a step back, shaking her head. “You almost died, Maya.”
Maya scoffed. “But I didn’t.”
“That doesn’t make it better,” Carina snapped.
Maya rolled her eyes, her patience snapping. “Why are you making this about you?”
Carina flinched like she had been slapped.
Maya regretted it immediately—but she didn’t take it back.
She couldn’t.
Carina exhaled shakily. “This isn’t about me, Maya. It’s about us. You kept this from me.”
Maya shook her head. “Because I didn’t want to deal with this. With you looking at me like I’m broken.”
Carina’s eyes softened despite the anger burning beneath them. “You’re not broken.”
Maya let out a sharp laugh. “Then why does it feel like I am?”
Carina swallowed. “Because you’re not dealing with it.”
Maya took a step back, arms wrapping around herself. “I handled it.”
Carina let out a breath. “Maya…”
Maya turned away. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
Carina’s voice wavered. “Maya, please—”
"I don’t.”
Silence.
Carina closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded—slowly.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Maya blinked. “What?”
Carina exhaled. “I won’t push.”
Maya hesitated, something inside her tightening.
Carina stepped back. “But I need you to know something.”
Maya braced herself.
Carina’s voice was soft, but unwavering.
“You can shut me out,” she said. “You can pretend you’re fine. But I’m not going anywhere.”
Maya swallowed.
Carina held her gaze for a long moment.
Then, without another word, she turned and walked out.
Maya stood there, fists clenched, jaw tight—pretending that her wife leaving didn’t feel like the fire all over again.