“A doctor, Jules?” I asked. “Of course,” I said, under my breath.

She shot me a puzzled look.

“You know the divorce rates for doctors?” I asked. “You don’t want to marry him.”

I watched her dramatically sigh.

“Will, no one said anything about marrying anyone,” she said. “And besides, like your job’s much better. I can’t even count the number of times you left me somewhere when your tones went off or the hours we missed because of them.”

“I always left you with someone we knew, Jules,” I reminded her. “You make it sound like I left you on the side of the road somewhere.”

I watched her take a deep breath, close her eyes and then smile.

“Will,” she said, “we don’t have to fight like this anymore.”

“Anymore?” I asked. “Jules, we never fought, and we’re not fighting now. We’re just discussing our differences, like how you’re fond of doctors, and I’m not.”

She took another deep breath, and her smile turned soft.

“Really?” she asked. “Because it sounds a lot like a certain night that I remember not so long ago.”

I stared at her, trying desperately to find the meaning in her riddle.

“Come on, Jules, don’t even bring that night up,” I eventually said, recalling our breakup, and at the same time, running my hand through my hair. “I hate that night.”

“That makes two of us, so let’s just agree to not fight anymore,” she said.

She was still wearing a smile, but it looked fake.

I stared into her eyes for a minute and then finally forced a grin too.

“Fine,” I said, “no more fighting. Let’s talk about you instead.”

A sincere smile came to life on her face again.

“What about me?” she asked.

“Well, how’s school?” I asked.

“It’s good,” she said, nodding her head. “It’s just prerequisites and electives. Nothing too exciting.”

“What about track?” I asked.

She smiled wider.

“What is it?” I asked.

“My time dropped two seconds,” she said.

“I knew it,” I exclaimed, as I leaned back against the chair and smiled. “What did I tell you?”

“I know,” she said, starting to laugh.

“What about you?” she asked.

“Well,” I said, trying hard to censor the parts where I sulk most nights thinking of her, “I got a job on the department in St. Louis.”

“Wow, that’s great, Will,” she said, smiling wider.

I followed her stare to a spot on the table then and watched as her smile started to fade. It looked as if she were thinking about something.

“What?” I asked her.

Her eyes quickly flashed back to mine.

“Oh, nothing,” she said. “It’s just that it went by so fast.”

I nodded my head as her eyes lingered for a second in mine.

“Do you still play sometimes?” she asked.

I pushed my lips together, thinking about the band and our weekend nights.

“Sometimes,” I said.

“Good,” she said, smiling again.

I locked my eyes in hers then.

“You know, I bet doctors come home smelling worse then ashes,” I said, cracking a smile. “Have you ever smelled the inside of a hospital?”

“Will,” she playfully scolded.

“Okay, okay,” I said. “But don’t say I never warned you.”

She shot me that cute, pouty face that she stored in that arsenal of expressions she owned. She must have known that she was killin’ me. I let my eyes linger in hers a second too long, but she didn’t seem to mind. Jules was still in there somewhere. I took a deep breath in and then gradually let it out, as a knowing smile found its way back to my face.

“You were on his emergency contacts,” I heard a voice say on the other side of the curtain.

I felt my heart speed up, and my eyelids instantly fell shut. Emergency contacts. I had forgotten about that. I sat up straight and tried to make out my reflection in the black, television screen. I probably looked like hell.

I combed back my hair with my fingers and then listened for Jules’s voice, but for several moments, there was only silence. My eyes darted back and forth from the curtain to the only piece of the door that I could see, as I anxiously rubbed my palms against the white blanket, subconsciously smoothing out its deep wrinkles. Then, finally, her thin frame emerged from the temporary wall. And her eyes instantly caught mine.

“Hey, are you okay?” Julia asked.

Her voice was soft and shaken. I was pretty sure I was expecting her to be pissed that I had uprooted her from doing whatever she had been doing more than a hundred miles away.

“I’m fine,” I said. “If I would have known that they were going to call you, I would have told them not to.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s okay. I mean, they really couldn’t tell me anything on the phone. What happened?”

“Just an unlucky step, which led to an unlucky fall, that’s all,” I said. “In reality, it’s all kind of a blur. I remember feeling the heat from the flames. I remember stepping backward, and the next thing I remember is being here, in this bed.”

“They said that it knocked you out, and your wrist…,” she started, her eyes falling to the cast on my arm.

“Yeah, it’s broken, but it should heal pretty fast,” I said.

I watched as she tried to force a smile.

“Listen,” I said, “I’m really sorry that you had to drive all this way. It’s stupid. I’m fine. And it’s stupid that I even have you on the list. You were just the first person I thought of. It was a while ago, out of habit, I guess,” I lied, “and you never expect to ever have to need that list…”

“Will, stop,” she said and then rested her hand on my good arm. “I’m just happy that you’re okay. You could’ve been…”

I met her gaze.

“But I wasn’t,” I said.

I rested my eyes in hers and took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. Moments passed before either one of us spoke.

“The nurse said that you were wearing this when you came in,” she eventually said, opening her palm up to me.

Inside, was the silver pin with the angel pulling up the firefighter. I took it from her hand. My eyes traced every line that made up the metal pin, trying to recall, first, the moments that led to my fall, and second, the percentage of good men and women who didn’t make it past a fall like that. And after a minute, I looked back up to find Julia’s eyes clouding with tears.

“Jules,” I said, trying to reach for her but getting pulled back by the IVs still attached to me. “I wear it all the time. I’m here because of it. I’m fine because of it.”

My eyes followed over the sad lines in her face.

“Come here,” I said then, gesturing her closer to me.

I scooted over as much as I could in the tiny bed and used my good arm to pat the small space on the mattress I had just made for her.

She seemed to hesitate at first, but then eventually, she climbed onto the bed and nuzzled into the small place between my chest and the bed’s railing. I wrapped my good arm around her shoulder and brought my hand, still cradling the pin, to rest on her opposite arm. I could tell that she was a little reluctant to rest her head on my chest, but she did it anyway, as I squeezed her still closer to me and smiled.

“I’m not keepin’ ya from any big plans tonight, am I?” I asked.

I heard her laugh once and then felt her head move back and forth.

I smiled wider and then rested my cheek on her head.

“I’d offer you something to drink, but the drink selection in here is awful, and the service isn’t much better,” I whispered into her ear.

She laughed that pretty laugh of hers again.

“That’s okay,” she said. “I’m hitting up another hospital after this, and it’s supposed to be like five stars or something AND have live entertainment.”

I raised my head up from hers.

“Live entertainment, huh?” I asked her.

“Mm hmm,” she said, nodding into my chest.