Page 33 of Rescue My Heart
When she finished, she dressed quickly, glancing in the mirror. Her eyes still looked a little tired, a little worn, but she felt a renewed sense of resolve. Tonight, she would go out, laugh with friends, and remind herself that she had a life outside of her connection to Mazey.
McKenna drove to the bar, turning up the music in her car, letting the bass drown out any stray thoughts that threatened to creep back in. By the time she arrived, her friends were already there, gathered around a pool table, drinks in hand and laughing easily. She joined them, grateful for the normalcy and camaraderie. They offered her a drink, and she considered it for a moment before declining. Somehow, a drink didn’t feel right. She didn’t want to risk letting her emotions get the best of her, and alcohol might loosen the grip she had on her hurt.
“C’mon, you’re usually the life of the party! Just one?” Jenna, teased, nudging her shoulder.
McKenna grinned, trying to match their energy. “Not tonight, I’m driving. Someone’s gotta keep you girls in check.”
They laughed, and McKenna allowed herself to sink into the simple joy of being surrounded by people who cared about her. For a moment, she felt almost normal again, caught up in their jokes and the easy rhythm of their conversation. The noise, the music, and the friendly faces around her created a kind of buffer, holding back the flood of hurt that had threatened to overwhelm her all day.
After an hour, Ember arrived, looking around and spotting McKenna immediately. She gave her a grin and came over, slipping an arm around her shoulders. “Glad to see you came out tonight. Figured you might hole up somewhere,” she said, her tone light but her gaze knowing.
McKenna smiled, shrugging. “Thought about it, but you’re right. It’s been a while since I had a real night off.”
Ember studied her for a moment. “Proud of you. This’ll pass, y’know. One day, it’ll just be another story.”
“Yeah,” McKenna replied, trying to believe it. But deep down, she wasn’t so sure.
She joined the group for another game of pool, chatting and laughing as best she could. But after a while, the noise started to feel too loud and the crowd too thick. She’d been holding it together all day, pretending everything was fine, and the act was wearing thin. She checked her watch and saw it was getting late; with work the next day, she had an excuse to leave without raising suspicions.
“Well, I think I’m going to call it a night,” she said, grabbing her jacket.
The women groaned in mock disappointment, but Ember gave her an understanding look. “We’ll catch up soon, alright?”Ember squeezed her shoulder. “Text me when you’re home safe.”
McKenna gave her a grateful nod and slipped out of the bar, relieved to be alone again. As she drove home, the silence in the car felt both comforting and daunting, and memories of Mazey crept in despite her efforts to keep them at bay. She had thought the night out might clear her mind, but instead, the ache in her chest felt sharper than ever.
When she finally pulled up to her house, she sat in the car for a moment, reluctant to go inside. The last time she’d been here, Mazey had been with her, laughing and looking at her with those bright, hopeful eyes that had made McKenna think, just for a second, that maybe she’d found something real. But that vision was shattered now, replaced by the cold text Mazey had sent.
She walked inside, the quiet of the house pressing down on her. She didn’t turn on the TV or bother checking her phone. Instead, she went to her room and sat down on the bed, staring at the wall. The emptiness felt like it was consuming her, like a hollow space that nothing could fill.
Lying back, she tried to focus on the positives. The friends who had been there for her, and the strength she’d built up over the years. But the truth was, her heart ached. She’d let herself open up, let herself believe in someone, and now she was left trying to pick up the pieces.
As she lay in the darkness, McKenna let out a slow breath. This was the hardest part, she knew. The waiting. Hoping that maybe Mazey would realize what she’d walked away from, that she’d come back with an apology. And yet, a part of McKenna knew that even if Mazey did come back, things wouldn’t be the same. The trust and certainty she’d felt was already cracked.
She forced herself to close her eyes, determined to get at least a few hours of sleep before her shift. Tomorrow wouldbe another day, another chance to move forward, even if it felt impossible right now.
In the dark, she whispered to herself, “One day at a time.” It was all she could promise herself tonight, but it would have to be enough.
She quickly fell asleep, exhaustion finally overpowering the weight on her heart. Before she knew it, her alarm jolted her awake, filling the quiet room with its sharp, insistent beeps. McKenna groaned and rubbed her eyes, willing herself to push past the heavy ache still lingering from the night before. It was time for work, and work meant structure and focus, things she desperately needed right now.
She made herself a strong cup of coffee, sipping it slowly as she got ready. Each familiar step in her morning routine felt like a lifeline, a reminder of who she was outside of Mazey’s shadow. Today would be about the job and putting one foot in front of the other because moving forward was the only thing she could control.
By the time she slipped into her uniform, she felt the tiniest glimmer of strength returning. Work was her way forward, her path out of the fog of heartbreak. And as she walked out the door, she took a deep breath, promising herself that today, she’d start letting go.
13
MAZEY
Mazey lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dim early morning light. She hadn’t been able to sleep, not really. After she ended things with McKenna, she’d thought she would feel relieved, even lighter somehow, as if breaking things off would set her back on track. But nothing felt resolved, and the hollow ache in her chest hadn’t faded; if anything, it had deepened, settling into an emptiness she couldn’t shake. She wanted to tell McKenna she was sorry, to admit she’d been wrong, but every time she thought about reaching out, a weight settled over her, freezing her in place. It didn’t matter now. It was over.
Mazey sighed, pulling herself out of bed before her alarm went off. The prospect of another long day loomed, and she couldn’t decide if it was a welcome distraction or just more noise to mask her feelings. She walked into the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face in an attempt to ground herself. Today, she didn’t want anyone coming to her room to help with makeup or small talk. She wasn’t in the mood for the forced smiles or the scripted reassurances. Instead, she would go straight to set and lose herself in work, pretending everything was fine.
As she dried her face, she remembered today’s shoot. Another dangerous stunt, one she’d be performing in rushing river rapids, dodging jagged rocks, and the risks made her stomach twist. It was a reenactment of the scene where McKenna had come to her rescue the first time, after her safety gear had failed. Even though the scene had gone wrong back then, Mazey felt an odd mix of nerves and a strange kind of nostalgia. It was as if, deep down, she hoped to see McKenna there, ready to catch her again.
Apparently, the studio had asked Firefighter McKenna Adams to supervise the scene today. Mazey’s heart skipped when she heard this, unsure whether she wanted McKenna to accept or turn down the offer. Was this some kind of sick joke? Did the studio not know the rumors that were swirling? Part of her hoped McKenna would come, even if it meant just a glimpse, some reminder of what they’d shared. But another part feared seeing her again, seeing how strong and composed she’d look, how unaffected she might appear. Maybe if McKenna didn’t show up, it would be the sign Mazey needed, a confirmation that ending things was the right choice.
Mazey headed down to the waiting car outside the hotel, shielding herself from the cluster of paparazzi. There were fewer today, though, already drawn to the latest scandal somewhere else. Still, the flashes and noise around her felt louder than usual, reminding her how much she hated the constant buzz, the way every move of hers was a spectacle. As the car pulled away, Mazey looked out the window, hoping for a moment of stillness before the day’s demands began. In the back of her mind, she found herself picturing McKenna—imagining her voice, her steady presence, the way her calm confidence had a way of dissolving Mazey’s anxieties.
The car wound down a narrow road flanked by dense trees, and eventually, the rush of water grew louder, signalingtheir arrival at the river. It was an intense location: dark water crashing over rocks, unpredictable currents that swirled violently, creating a challenge for even the most experienced crewmembers. People were already bustling around, setting up equipment, testing harnesses, and calling out instructions over the roar of the water. Someone quickly directed Mazey toward the makeup trailer, but as she made her way there, her eyes searched the crowd, hoping for a glimpse of McKenna. But she didn’t see her.