My Husband Married the Girl He Saved from the Fire

After Vera's departure, the ward fell silent once more.

Mira lay still on the bed, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. A smile, empty and hollow, tugged at her lips. So, this is what it feels like... to lose everything—your heart, your will, your purpose. It makes you invulnerable.

The next day, Mira was discharged from the hospital. Her phone buzzed with a message containing flight details to Manchester, England. She was set to depart in four days.

Despite the turmoil inside, she carried on with her daily routine, masking any signs of distress. She went into work as usual, her composure unwavering, her movements deliberate.

Later, she visited a photo studio in the mall, where she had a number of old photos developed. As she sifted through them, she was struck by how much of her life Elias had occupied. Junior high, high school, college, marriage... He was in nearly every shot, a constant presence in the background of her life.

Without hesitation, Mira began to cut out every trace of him. The men in the pictures were gone, leaving only her. She couldn't bear the thought of his image lingering, especially after the surgery. After the procedure, I won’t even remember who I am. There's no need to keep him in my memories.

Once the photos were put away, Mira entered the elevator, only to find Vera already inside.

"What a coincidence," Vera said with a smile, her voice sugary sweet.

Mira didn’t respond. She pressed the button for the first floor, her eyes fixed forward, avoiding any further interaction.

Suddenly, the elevator jerked to a stop on the fifth floor. A voice crackled over the mall’s loudspeaker.

"Dear customers and friends, we apologize for the inconvenience. A fire has broken out in the mall. Please remain calm. The fire brigade has arrived and is working on emergency rescue operations..."

The air grew thick with smoke, seeping into the elevator through the narrow gaps. Vera’s face turned pale, her panic evident.

She fumbled with her phone, her hands shaking as she typed furiously. "Elias, where are you? Save me..."

But every message she sent was met with a red exclamation mark. The messages failed to send.

The smoke grew denser, the choking smell of burning filling the small space. Mira stood motionless, her expression unreadable, while Vera’s frantic breathing echoed in the elevator. The fire outside raged on, and with every passing second, the air seemed to grow heavier, more suffocating.

Mira struggled to breathe, the air thick with smoke, suffocating her. Her lungs felt as if they were being filled with heavy, swollen balloons. Every inhale was a sharp, burning sensation, and the acrid scent of smoke seemed to cling to her throat.

Vera’s frantic sobs pierced the air, her cries harsh and jarring in the confined space of the elevator. Mira closed her eyes, trying to steady herself amidst the chaos.

Suddenly, the elevator doors slid open with a loud mechanical groan. Elias stood there, his presence a stark contrast to the chaos inside. "Hurry, come out now!" His voice was urgent, his gaze scanning the two women within.

"Elias!" Vera cried out, her voice thick with grievance and fear.

Elias held a wet towel in his hand, his hesitation palpable. He seemed torn, unsure of who to offer it to. The tension in the air was suffocating.

After a beat, he spoke again, his voice low and strained. "Mira... Vera is very weak. If she inhales too much smoke, something bad might happen." His gaze shifted to Mira. "I taught you—take a deep breath, hold it, and I’ll get you out of here."

Without waiting for a response, Elias handed the wet towel to Vera. "Cover your mouth and nose," he instructed her, his hands already reaching for Mira and Vera, pulling them toward the evacuation passage.

The fire’s smoke grew thicker, its presence almost suffocating. Mira coughed violently, her chest feeling as though it would explode with each wheeze. Her vision blurred, the dizziness threatening to overwhelm her.

"Mira, hold on a little longer," Elias urged, his voice filled with concern as he dragged them both through the thickening smoke. Vera, clutching the wet towel, seemed relatively unharmed, but Mira felt like every breath was her last.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they emerged into the open air. The fresh breath of the night was a relief, but Mira still felt weak, her body trembling from the ordeal. She was swiftly placed into the ambulance parked nearby, where oxygen was administered to help stabilize her.

The world around her was a haze as she drifted in and out of consciousness, the events of the night a blur.

By the time she made it home, she was still groggy, her head heavy with exhaustion. The soft hum of the house seemed distant, and she moved through it like a ghost.

Elias returned at two in the morning after finishing his work. His eyes were filled with guilt as he approached her. "I’m sorry, Mira..." His voice was low, regret dripping from every word. "The situation was urgent, and you know Vera’s condition. I made you suffer."

"It's okay, I'm not dead, am I?" Mira laughed softly. Her voice carried warmth, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of something she didn’t say.

She was always so generous, yet Elias couldn’t shake the weight pressing on his heart. He pulled her into a tight embrace, his voice trembling. "Mira, I swear—this will be the last time. From now on, your safety will always come first. Always."

Mira nodded, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Alright, I believe you, Captain Sullivan."

Later that night, as the steady rhythm of Elias' snores filled the bedroom, Mira lay awake. Her gaze lingered on the soft glow of his phone screen, where she had caught a glimpse of the message he sent to Vera before drifting off to sleep.

Mira is leaving on a business trip tomorrow. After the wedding, I’ll make sure we check off every item on your bucket list. She’ll be back in about 20 days. Let’s not contact each other until then.

Her chest tightened, and the ache spread through her as if winter’s chill had seeped into her bones.

At five o'clock in the morning, before the first light of dawn, Mira rose quietly. She dressed swiftly, careful not to disturb him, and packed her suitcase. Standing in the doorway, she turned back for one final glance at the home they had built together—the memories etched into its corners, now too painful to bear.

"Elias," she whispered in her heart, "I will never return. From this moment on, let us be strangers, with nothing to do with each other ever again."

The icy winter wind bit at her cheeks as she stepped into the dark, her figure swallowed by the vast emptiness of the early morning.