smelled like he hadn’t showered. His hair was a wild mess, he had beard stubble all over his face and his shorts and T-shirt were wrinkled as if he’d slept in them. In short, he was a hot mess. And that just wasn’t like Rafe at all.
Worst of all, there were dark circles shadowed under his eyes. Something was definitely wrong.
She stepped up to him and laid her hand on his forearm. “You’re not fine. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I already told you. It’s nothing.” He pulled his arm away and went to the fridge to grab a beer.
“Rafe. It’s not even noon.”
“So?”
She took the beer from his hand and placed it on the counter. She retrieved a glass from the cabinet, filled it with ice and water and handed it to him. “ So . . . talk to me.”
She saw the misery on his face. He took several deep swallows of the water, then laid the glass down. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got the time.” She grasped his hand, grabbed the glass of water and led him into the living room. She pulled him down on the sofa so he was seated next to her.
Then she waited, wanting to give him the time to open up to her.
For a couple of minutes he didn’t say anything, just stared down at their hands clasped together.
“There was a fire the other day at an apartment building. I covered lead along with some of my other team members. We got into the main apartment where the fire had broken out, extinguished the flames. Found one person in the master bedroom, dead.”
She squeezed his hand. She’d seen fire victims in the ER before. It was devastating. She couldn’t imagine what he’d seen there.
“It was a young woman. We didn’t get there in time to save her.”
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Rafe.”
He looked up at her, his eyes filled with tears. “We’ve had fatalities on calls before. I don’t know why this one bothers me so much.”
She rubbed his arm. “Chances are she was already gone before you even arrived on the scene. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I’ve been debriefed and talked to the counselor and the chaplain. That’s what they both told me. Doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “I still see her in my head when I try to sleep. Every time I close my eyes, she’s right there. I can’t make it go away.”
“And you probably won’t be able to. Not right away. Not for a while. But eventually, it’ll pass.”
He frowned at her. “So what am I supposed to do?”
“Live with it. It’s part of your job. Sometimes we lose people. And sometimes it’s horrible.”
He looked defeated. “It fucking sucks.”
“Yes. It does. That part of it does definitely suck. But how many lives have you saved, Rafe? How many people have you pulled out of the wreckage of a vehicle? How many people have you saved from a burning building?”
“No clue.” He shrugged, as if that didn’t matter.
It did matter. It was everything. She needed to make him see that.
“When your mind wants to go to that dark place, think about the lives you’ve saved instead of focusing on the one you lost.”
“She was twenty-one, working the night shift at a restaurant while she juggled college classes. She was just starting out, Carmen. And now her life is over.”
Carmen’s heart ached for the loss. And for Rafe’s pain. “It hurts. I know it hurts. But you can’t dwell on this. If you do, it’ll destroy you. Look at what you’ve done the past few days. You’re way in your head, babe, and you’ve got to climb out.”
He sighed, then tilted his head to stare at her. “I guess you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. You forget where I work. I see death every day. Burn victims, missing limbs, paralyzed victims, suicide attempts, domestic violence, gunshots, drug overdoses. You name it, it comes through my ER.”
He rubbed his thumb over hers. “How do you deal with all of it?”
“At first I didn’t. My first year in the ER, I came home and cried nearly every day. And then, thanks to a very kind supervisor on my floor who taught me well, I learned to steel myself, to not get emotionally involved. I was no good to my patients if I fell apart. I was no good to their families if they saw me crying over what happened to the people they loved. My