Is there really nothing going on between you two?

I questioned Aiden in my mind, and I questioned myself.

Over the past year, Aiden’s work phone has been ringing constantly, day and night.

Even when he was woken up from a deep sleep in the middle of the night, he’d rub his tired eyes, throw on his coat without a word, and rush out the door.

I thought it was just the demands of his promotion.

But then I noticed that the same name kept popping up on his phone.

Ivy.

A woman’s intuition told me something was off.

So, I secretly checked Aiden’s recent call logs.

There were only a few genuine work-related calls.

But Ivy’s name? It was everywhere.

My boyfriend of five years would drop everything to help another woman in an emergency.

But when I made the one desperate call for help, I got nothing but scolding and insults.

How ironic.

I heard the busy tone in the receiver.

Aiden had hung up on me.

The flames crept closer, and while I was still conscious, I hurriedly reported the fire.

As I expected, after the operator confirmed my address, they transferred the call to Aiden’s station.

Wait, what? Everyone’s on duty, but they’re too far away? Why not send help from a nearby station?

Nonsense! Aiden would never make such a hasty decision!

I don’t know what reply he got, but he seemed annoyed, impatiently tapping his fingers on the table.

Suddenly, the operator’s voice cut off.

He realized I could hear him and quickly hit the mute button.

A moment later, he picked up the line again and regretfully informed me, “I’m sorry, ma’am, the nearest fire station is currently on another emergency call. Please stay on the line, and I’ll coordinate with other rescue teams immediately.”

My head was getting heavier and heavier.

I pinched my thigh hard twice, just to stay alert. I asked hurriedly, “How much longer do I have to wait? I’m not sure I can hold on much longer.”

The operator carefully chose his words.

The rescue teams have been dispatched, and they’ll arrive one after another. The fire station near you has the best high-rise rescue equipment in the city and should be there in about half an hour.

He then mentioned some self-rescue tips.

I looked helplessly at the bathroom filled with water, the wet bedsheet at my feet, and the damp towel in my hand.

I was sorry to tell him that I had already tried everything.

In a daze, I saw a news notification that the fire captain had mobilized all rescue forces and successfully saved a suicidal and depressed girl.

I laughed bitterly.

If I remember correctly, this was Ivy’s 99th episode of depression.

I’m so tired of this excuse.

A month ago, Aiden and I had a huge fight.

That day was supposed to be our engagement party.

On my left was my mom, who had traveled for hours by train to be there.

On my right was my future mother-in-law, who looked down on me, glaring with disdain.

Other relatives surrounded us, exchanging awkward glances.

The table was filled with all my favorite dishes, which Aiden had pre-ordered.

The waiter brought out a cake with a ring hidden inside, specially arranged by Aiden.

The officiant, holding Aiden’s written vows, awkwardly raised the microphone.

But Aiden never showed up.

I wasn’t sure if he was even serious about it.

Two hours later, after the party ended, Aiden sent a cold, emotionless text: [Sorry, emergency call, I’ll be back once it’s done.]

He didn’t come back all night.

At 2 a.m., Ivy updated her social media with a post on her private account:

[Every time depression hits, I just want to escape from the world. But then you’re there, making me stay and forget everything else.]

There was a picture attached to the post, showing two hands tightly clasped together. The scars on the back of the larger hand stood out sharply.

The next night, Aiden came home looking exhausted. I didn’t get angry. I calmly talked about our five-year relationship and his connection with Ivy that seemed to go beyond work. He stayed silent, his fingers constantly moving as he occasionally looked down to reply to messages on his work phone.

I couldn’t help but notice the scar on the back of his hand. Then I accidentally caught sight of the name in the message box— “Ivy baby.” The long-buried frustration and resentment inside me were about to boil over. But before I could say anything, Aiden cut me off with, “Can you lower your voice? You’re acting like a fishwife.” He told me to calm down. So, I did—I calmly packed my suitcase and left our newly renovated home.

The operator on the phone had no idea about the turmoil in my heart but still tried to comfort me. “Please stay hopeful and hang in there! The firefighters will get you out safely!” I looked at the time; five minutes had already passed. Not only had I missed the golden window to escape, but the half-hour they promised now felt distant and uncertain.

After hanging up, I didn’t care about anything else. I ran into the fire with a wet blanket, twisted the doorknob, and kicked at the door desperately. The smell of burnt skin filled the air. I looked down and saw my right hand, bloodied, with peeled skin stuck to the doorknob. The hem of my clothes had caught fire. My hope of escaping through the front door was shattered.

The sunset filtered through the window, mingling with the flickering flames. I struggled to reach the balcony and looked out from the 18th floor. If I jumped, I’d surely be crushed. So, faced with the choice of burning or falling to death, I chose the former.

Shortly afterward, Aiden, who was across the city, received a text notification. Maybe my will to live was too strong, because my soul seemed to follow that message to Aiden’s side. It was busy around him. Ivy’s face was full of fear, and her tears soaked Aiden’s collar. He gently patted her head and comforted her, “Promise me, don’t do anything rash. No matter how tough it gets, I’m here for you.”

Aiden’s colleagues exchanged uneasy glances, clearly frustrated but too afraid to speak up. The youngest firefighter, Leonardo, was nudged forward and timidly reminded him, “Aiden, the command center called half an hour ago about a major fire in one of the high-rises downtown. Shouldn’t we head out?” I recognized him as the rookie who had just started.

Aiden looked a bit annoyed. After straightening Ivy’s hair and adjusting his collar, he finally replied, “Didn’t I say to send a few of the veterans? There’s no need to wait for me.”

Leonardo hesitated, then said, “You might’ve forgotten, but you called the whole team to save Ivy, and you even brought the only aerial ladder truck in the city.”

Aiden, feeling challenged, snapped, “Are you questioning my decision? Both situations involve lives, and I have to follow the protocol! If you’re so eager to prove yourself, then go ahead, I’m not stopping you!”

Leonardo, blunt as ever, responded sarcastically, “This isn’t about proving anything. You’re the captain, leading us all to play hero for a damsel in distress. If we don’t get her to smile, how can we leave?”

“Enough!” Aiden’s face went pale, and he shouted angrily. Just as the two were about to clash, Ivy tugged on Aiden’s sleeve and spoke softly, “Please don’t be angry. We’re all just trying to save lives. I’ll go with you.”

She then turned to the firefighters, bowed deeply, and tearfully said, “I’m so sorry for using up your resources. Thank you for giving me a second chance at life.”

A female firefighter couldn’t help but roll her eyes and muttered under her breath, “Yeah, you said the same thing last time!”

The fire burned for another half hour. Aiden and his team finally rushed out. But by then, my dear fiancé, the unforgiving flames had already claimed my life. I won’t be a burden to you anymore.

Aiden and Ivy sat close in the back seat, practically glued together. Ivy, feigning concern, turned to Aiden and said, “Hey, your phone was blowing up with calls from Elena earlier, even on the emergency line. You think something’s wrong?”

Aiden scoffed, “What could be wrong with her? She left our home to rent her own place. She’s probably off enjoying herself. Last I heard, she’s planning to head back to her hometown, probably to see her mom.”

Ivy’s face showed worry, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her eyes. “I really hope it’s not because of me. I swear I didn’t mean to mess up the engagement party! Give me Elena’s number so I can apologize in person,” she said, her voice catching as she started to tear up.

Aiden grabbed a tissue and gently wiped away her tears. “It’s not your fault. She’s just being stubborn.”

As he sat up, Aiden’s hand tightened around the tissue. He pulled out his phone, staring at it for a moment. Curious, I glanced over and saw the last message I sent him on the screen:

[“I’m leaving. I wish you both happiness. Please don’t call or miss me.”]

After a pause, Aiden chuckled to himself and started typing a reply. [Where are you headed? Bella’s been missing you. She hasn’t been eating well. I’ll pick you up tonight and take you home.]

Bella is the Samoyed we raised together.

Suddenly, the driver slammed on the brakes, and both Aiden and Ivy lurched forward. Ivy snapped, “Can’t you drive properly? I almost hit my head!”

Aiden quickly opened the car door and bolted out, leaving his phone behind on the seat. The message he was typing didn’t even get sent.

Thick black smoke poured from the middle floors of the high-rise, creating a dark cloud that blotted out the sun. The firelight reflected off shattered glass, accompanied by the sound of explosions and a deep, rumbling roar.

A commander, just emerging from the fire, spotted Aiden and without a word, slammed his torn mask into Aiden’s chest. “Do you even realize how dangerous it is when a high-rise catches fire? You were the closest unit, and yet, every other team from the city arrived before yours! We’ve got ten dead and ten injured. You better start thinking about how you’re going to explain this to the public and the higher-ups.”

The first stretcher carried my body out. More injures followed. Out of respect, someone draped a white cloth over my remains, leaving only my limp hand exposed.

Aiden caught sight of the half-broken bracelet on my wrist and froze.

The commander’s voice was thick with grief and anger. “Aiden, lives are on the line; there’s no room for mistakes! This was the only fatality—a young woman in her twenties, burned to death. There’s barely anything left of her!”