“Shit,” I said, into my mask.

I glanced back at the basement door on the other side of the room, but I could only see flames there — and not even any semblance of an exit. So, without a second thought, I charged up the wooden stairs and stopped two from the top. I couldn’t see anything on the other side of the doorway through the smoke, and I knew the floorboards couldn’t be stable, but I had no other option.

I charged forward, pressing the dog close to my chest. The air was hot, and the dog was shaking. Then suddenly, I felt my boots plunge through the floorboards. At the same time, the dog flew forward, and I instinctively reached for whatever part of the floor that was still able to hold me and caught myself under my arms.

I took a second to regain my bearings, and then I tried to pull my body back up from the floor. It was hot, and my head was starting to get foggy. I tried to block out the loud popping sound the fire made and pretend as if it weren’t there. But I could still hear the dog barking. I managed to grab the corner of the wall, and I tried again to hoist myself up. It worked a little. I was able to get more of my waist above the floorboards. But the smoke was thick, and somehow, during the fall, my mask had gotten dislodged. And now, the fumes were finding their way into my nose and mouth. I retightened my grip on the corner of the wall again and tried again to pull myself to the surface. This time, though, I didn’t budge. I breathed in another smoke-filled breath and gave everything I had to keeping my head up. The room was getting hotter, and there was a dog fading and reappearing again in the fog. I couldn’t tell for sure if it were real or part of a dream.

I felt my hand loosen its grip on the wall. It shocked me, and I immediately retightened my hold. I was starting to take shallower breaths now, and my eyes were getting heavy. I felt my fingers start to loosen again, and it forced me to think about trying one, last time to pull myself up. But really, I just wanted to rest my eyes for a little while and try again later. And if it weren’t for that dog shouting at me, I was pretty sure I would.

Then, suddenly, I felt something. It started tugging and then pulling on me. I lifted my head, and then instantly, my eyelids fell heavy over my eyes.

I awoke to Julia doubled over in tears at the foot of a tiny bed.

“Jules,” I said, quickly sitting up but then being pulled back by a set of plastic tubes.

My words came out hoarse, and suddenly, I noticed my head wasn’t fairing much better.

“Will,” she said, turning to me and then rushing over to my side.

She moved, and then all of a sudden, there were way too many people in the tiny room. I noticed the fire captain first, and then I froze.

“You took a little fall,” the captain said.

I forced my eyelids over my eyes, and slowly, the memory came back to me. It was fuzzy and blurry, but it was there.

“You saved me,” I finally said to the captain.

He smiled, gently.

“You saved the dog,” he said.

A half-smile eventually found its way to my face.

“Just, uh, let’s not make it that close next time,” the captain said, giving me a wink.

My mouth turned up a little more at its corners, and then my eyes fell to the white sheets that I was covered in.

Julia grabbed my hand and forced it around hers and into her lap. I watched her intertwine her fingers in mine before I met her stare. Her eyes were so sad, and suddenly, I remembered the last words she had said to me before I had left her. And then it hit me — I hadn’t been careful.

“Jules,” I started to say.

She shook her head, stopping me, as her eyes started to fill with tears again.

“Jules,” I said again. “I’m okay. I’m fine.”

She was still shaking her head; a stream of liquid was now rolling down her cheeks. I reached up and brought her closer to me.

“Will, I can’t do this…,” I heard her start to mumble into my chest.

“What, babe?” I asked her.

She was quiet except for the sniffles.

I squeezed her tighter and stroked her pretty, long hair.

“It’s okay, Jules,” I said. “I’m okay.”

I took in a deep breath and then slowly let it out.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I whispered again, closer to her ear. “Everything’s okay.”

“Hey,” she said.

I switched the phone to my other ear. It had been a couple of weeks, but I felt as if I could still hear the cracking and the popping of that fire in one ear.

“Hey. How was your day?” I asked.

“Same old, same old,” she softly replied. “How was yours?”

“You know, pretty much the same too,” I said, as I kicked off, first, one shoe and then the other. “I had to get to class early because…”

I stopped. There was something off in her voice.

“Is something wrong, Jules?” I asked.

There was a pause. Pauses like that weren’t ever good.

“It’s just that…I can’t…,” she started and then stopped.

I waited for her to finish. Instead, there was silence.

“You can’t what?” I asked.

I heard her take a breath.

“I just feel like we’ve grown apart,” she said.

Her sentence was straight and to the point, and it completely derailed me.

“What?” I asked.

“I know that sounds really cliché, but I don’t know how else to say it,” she said.

I felt my heart momentarily take a break in my chest. Then, I took in a deep breath and then slowly let out a sigh.

“Jules, I know it’s been hard, but…,” I started to say but then let my words trail off.

“It has,” she said.

There was another moment where there was only silence before she continued. I had no words, so I just listened.

“It’s just that I’ve been busy with track,” she said, “and you’re doing your training, and when we do finally see each other, I feel like you aren’t really even that excited, and…”

“Jules, is this about our anniversary?” I interrupted. “Jules, I’m really sorry, and it wasn’t my intention to have us spend it in a hospital…”

“No, Will,” she said.

Her words were soft and sincere.

“This is not about that,” she said and then paused. “It is, but it’s not.”

My eyebrows darted to the center of my forehead. I could see them staring back at me now in the mirror as I started to take in shorter, shallower breaths.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “It’s just…It seems like it’s a chore for you.”

“What seems like a chore?” I asked.

“Us, Will,” she said.

Her replies were getting shorter and shorter.

“I don’t fit into your life anymore,” she continued.

“Jules,” I softly said and then stopped. “Jules, that’s not true, and I’m always excited to see you. I’m just tired sometimes.”

I took in another deep breath and then let it slowly escape past my lips before I continued.

“You don’t have to answer to fire calls at two in the morning just to go back to bed and answer another one at five,” I said.

“You’re right, I don’t, and I understand that,” she said.

She sounded slightly irritated now.

“But since you’ve been doing that, you’ve never found a way to make it work,” she said. “You’ve never found even the tiniest bit of energy for me. Will, I might not be answering fire calls, but I’m working my butt off up here. Plus, I’m the one driving home to see you every month. You’re never here. I feel like I’m the only one trying anymore.”

“I try,” I said, my voice trailing off.

“How, Will? How do you try?” she asked.

“I stay up and watch movies with you,” I protested.

I heard her sigh on the other end of the phone.

“First of all, you don’t stay up,” she said. “I know you’re sleeping. Secondly, I don’t want to always watch movies. I want to get dinner. I want to go dancing. I want to do things.”