HIS WILDFIRE

The Ones We Choose

The silence in the chalet was terrifying.

Too quiet. Too clean. Even the birds failed the sing, only the wind howled like it was in grief.

Too calculated.

I sat on the edge of the bed, phone in my hand—finally free to use it, and yet unable to. My mind replayed Jaime's words from the night before like a broken loop:

"So bad I missed."

"Would it have been the same if Ted didn't exist?"

I hadn't cried. Not really. My body felt cold, like my heart had shut everything down to protect itself.

That morning, Jaime had made me eggs for breakfast. Opened all the windows,granted me access to my phone and unlocked the front door like he was doing me a favour. Like the monster from last night was just a bad dream we could brush off with orange juice and fake smiles.

I hadn't flinched. But inside, I was screaming.

I stared down at Ted's name in my call log. Still no response. I had missed multiple calls from his mum and himself.
I felt bitter, gritting my teeth thinking Jaime did this all deliberately. He must've grinned widely while he declined all their calls.

I knew Ted would want to see me. But he didn't know the truth. He didn't know I had to stay away to keep him safe.

And if I didn't go now, I wasn't sure I'd be able to live with myself.

I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out, planning, scheming. I tore apart wasted papers of ideas I considered useless, leaving no trace of my endeavors.

I was tired and restless. I felt submerged in water and if I failed to keep my head up in the air l, I would drown.

So it was until Jaime came in, in high spirits, calling out my name with warmth.
I quickly tore the sheet before me open and swiftly grabbed a napkin feigning activity. I nonchalantly dropped the balled paper in the bin and wiped my hands with the napkin.

Jaime came close, passing his thumb over my cheek slowly while I tried to stop the rising and falling if my chest.

"I missed you." He said, smiling innocently.
I looked up at him.
"Did I still love Jaime?"
"Did I hate him... genuinely or because I discovered how dangerous he could be?"
I kept asking myself as I memorized his features all again, lost in my thoughts.

I stood up. Grabbed a jacket, shoved my phone into my pocket.

Jaime was in the kitchen, humming. Like this was just another Sunday.

"Going somewhere?" he asked without turning.

"I need air."

"You've had air all day," he said, too casually. "Sit. Let's talk."

"I need to see Ted," I said, my voice low but steady.

He stopped humming.

"...Grandee."

I walked toward the door. He moved fast—faster than I expected and slammed his hand against the wood, blocking me.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice shaking. "I gave you everything. I let you free. And now you're running back to him?"

"I'm not running," I said. I looked him straight in the eyes. "I'm going home."

His jaw tightened.

"He doesn't love you the way I do."

"But I love him," I snapped. The words burst out before I could stop them. "I never loved you the way I love Ted."

He flinched like I'd slapped him. And maybe I had, in a way.