Rowdy || 18+ || RH

Chapter 47

Emersyn

My eyes open to the dim light of the morning filtering through the curtains. I didn't sleep well last night. Val went home yesterday, and Fowler had another late shift at work. I'm growing to hate sleeping alone. Groaning, I sit up and rub my eyes, trying to wake up. Thank god it's Friday, at least.

I shuffle my way to the bathroom and stare at my reflection. Dark circles have taken residence under my eyes. I splash water on my face, hoping to chase away the tiredness. Grabbing my toothbrush, I start the daily ritual of getting ready for work. My mind is elsewhere, still tangled with thoughts of Marx, of what's happening between us.

The sudden ring of my phone startles me, and toothpaste splatters on the mirror. I rinse my mouth quickly and grab my phone. It's Carol, my boss. Why is she calling me this early?

"Carol? Is everything okay?" My voice is tinged with concern as I answer.

"Emersyn, it's... it's..." Her voice trembles, words failing her.

My heart races. "Carol, calm down. Take a deep breath and tell me what's going on."

"It's gone," she finally manages to say.

My stomach drops. "What's gone? Carol, what are you talking about?"

"The bakery, Emersyn. It's on fire."

The words hit me like a freight train, stealing the air from my lungs. My hands tremble as I clutch the phone. "I—I'm on my way."

I end the call, my mind a whirlpool of fear and confusion. I'm shaking as I grab the first clothes I see—a pair of jeans and a simple T-shirt—and pull them on. My fingers fumble with the buttons; they're not obeying me. I feel like I'm going to throw up. That bakery is not just my workplace; it's a part of me, a place that I love. And Carol, that bakery is her life.

I need to get there. Now.

I dash out of my room, my feet barely touching the ground. As I turn the corner, I almost crash into Marx. He steadies me, his eyes filled with concern.

"Emersyn, what's wrong?"

"The bakery—it's on fire," I choke out, tears streaming down my face.

His eyes widen. "You can't drive like this, let me grab my keys."

We rush to his van. My hands are shaking so much that I can't even put on the seatbelt. Without me even saying anything, Marx reaches over and buckles me.

As Marx speeds down the road, my thoughts are racing. The bakery was supposed to be my fresh start, my sweet beginning, a job I actually love. I've spent months there, working alongside Carol. And now it's going up in flames.

Carol must be devastated. That bakery was her dream, her prized possession. She put her heart and soul into it. And now, it's on fire. My heart aches for her. I can't even begin to imagine the pain she must be feeling.

What if the bakery can't be saved? What happens then? Carol's life is entwined with that place, and so is mine. It's not just a job; it's a part of who we are.

The van comes to a screeching halt, and I barely wait for Marx to park before I'm out of the car, running. Smoke fills the air, and my heart sinks as I see flames leaping out of the bakery windows. Firefighters are battling the blaze, but it looks bad. Really bad.

"Emersyn!" Carol's voice pierces through the chaos, and I see her standing a safe distance away, wrapped in a blanket, her face streaked with soot and tears. Jenna stands beside her. She looks as dishelved as I must look and I would bet she received the same frantic call from Carol that I had. She probably rushed here as well.