The Honeymoon of Death

"Caroline, why are you calling again?" Derrick Glover's familiar voice came through the line.

He continued, "Emery already told me everything! Don't be so petty. It's just one trip.

"Why make up nonsense about your house catching fire? That's bad luck! Young people need to stop messing around with stuff like that!"

Derrick was one of Emery's closest friends from the fire department and a die-hard supporter of Emery's first marriage to Sasha Woods. To him and others like him, I was just the wicked woman who had come between their "fairytale love story."

Since Sasha suddenly returned to town, Emery had been spending less and less time at home. Even when Luna had a high fever a few nights ago, he still refused to leave Sasha's place, where he was staying.

Emery had gone out of his way to make me look like a nagging, controlling wife. In my past life, I always wondered why his friends hated me despite how well I treated them—cooking meals, buying groceries, and giving them all the space they needed to hang out.

Yet, his circle always carried this unspoken hostility toward me. This time, I did not waste time arguing with Derrick. I hung up and immediately called a more distant fire station. I begged for their urgent assistance.

The fire continued to spread uncontrollably. I could hear the faint sound of furniture cracking and exploding inside the house.

Paula came running toward me. Her face was full of panic. "Caroline, thank goodness you're here! What are we going to do?"

"Luna and Liam are still napping. I'm scared that waking them up suddenly will frighten them, but leaving them asleep is just as bad!"

I followed her gaze to the flames, which had started in the north wing of the house—right where the kids' bedrooms were. To make matters worse, there was a strong wind today, causing the fire to dance wildly in every direction.

My anxiety soared. Although Luna and Liam were Emery and Sasha's children, Sasha abandoned them shortly after giving birth and disappeared without a trace.

She only resurfaced recently, claiming she had been battling a severe illness and did not want to burden Emery and the kids. Emery had been heartbroken when she handed him an old medical document as proof. He blamed himself for not being there for her and swore he would do everything he could to make it up to her.

I was the outsider in this tangled web of emotions—the "bitter wife" who had simply filled in for five years while Sasha was gone. However, my bond with Luna and Liam went deeper than that.

I had poured my heart into raising them, not just because I loved Emery, but because the countless nights spent caring for them had forged an unbreakable connection. Though the kids knew I was not their birth mother, I could feel their love and trust in me.

That was exactly why I could not just stand here waiting. I scanned my surroundings anxiously. The fire trucks still had not arrived, and time was slipping away.

In my past life, Emery had used his training to rescue them. Now, I tried to recall every move he had made.

I glanced up at the neighbor's balcony. Our apartment was on the fifth floor, but years of climbing practice had made scaling that height manageable for me.

I grabbed a large cleaning bucket from the building's maintenance area, filled it with water, and soaked myself from head to toe. Then, I removed my silk scarf, dampened it, and tied it around my nose and mouth.

After borrowing a thick rope from the maintenance crew, I slung it across my body. Seeing my intentions, the neighbors began to object.

One shouted, "Caroline, you can't do this! It's too dangerous!"

"Yeah, just wait a bit longer. The fire department will be here any minute!"

"Let me go instead! You shouldn't risk your life like this."

Hearing their worried voices, I clenched my teeth. Emery might be out there enjoying his life right now, but Luna and Liam were my responsibility. They called me "Mom," and I could not let them down.

I smiled gently and shook my head. Without hesitation, I began climbing the building while using the iron window frames and air conditioning units for support.

As I steadied myself on a third-floor unit, a sudden explosion erupted above me. Thick, black smoke billowed out. The air around me was scorching.

I instinctively recoiled as burning debris flew past my face. Furniture fragments crashed to the ground with a loud thud, causing the crowd below to scatter in fear.

"Caroline, come down now! Don't go any higher!"

"You're important too. Please, don't risk your life like this!"

Their pleas echoed below, but I simply smiled in response. I took a deep breath to steel myself before pressing forward.

Soon, I finally reached the fourth-floor window. One more step, and I would be at our balcony. I reached out for the metal railing but jerked my hand back instantly as searing heat burned my skin.

Within seconds, blisters formed on my palms. A neighbor noticed and attempted to throw a pair of gloves at me, but the distance was too great.

Determined, I bit down on the pain and gripped the railing tightly. Ignoring the stabbing heat, I used my momentum to leap onto the balcony and climb inside. Cheers erupted from the crowd below as they celebrated my small victory.