The Last Time He Touched Me Chapter 07

The Last Time He Touched Me Chapter 07

Damien’s POV

Lindsey frowns slightly, opens her mouth, then finally urges,

“No. The fire is getting worse. We need to leave. NOW.”

A few days later, news of Lindsey’s hospitalization spreads through the station. Her colleagues line up to

visit her, and flowers and fruit baskets fill the hospital room.

None of them are from Kristen.

I stand at the door, checking my phone again and again.

A few days ago, I sent Kristen a message:

[There is a fire in the west district. Be careful when you get off work.]

It is still unread.

For some reason, an uneasy feeling lingers in my chest.

The door to the ward opens. It is Lindsey’s supervisor from the station.

After some small talk, he walks up to Lindsey’s bedside.

“Lindsey, even though you are new, you were brave enough to go to the fire scene to report. That is rare. This time, both you and Kristen did a great job for the station.”

The moment I hear that name, my entire body stiffens. I step forward immediately, my voice tightening.

“Kristen was at the fire scene? Where is she now?”

The station director quickly tries to calm me.

“Mr. Grimholt, please do not worry.”

“Kristen is fine. She was trapped at the scene, but firefighters found and rescued her in time.”

At that moment, the hospital TV on the wall replays footage from the fire.

In a brief, shaky shot, I see it.

Kristen, unconscious, being carried away on a stretcher by medical staff.

I stare at the screen, completely frozen.

She was only a few meters away from me that night. So close. Yet I had no idea she was in danger.

I can almost imagine what she went through at that moment, the fear, the helplessness, the despair.

I have always known Kristen is actually very timid.

So timid that once, after watching a horror movie, she was too scared to sleep alone.

She would stand at my bedroom door holding her pillow, asking to stay with me. And every time, I would coldly turn her away.

But she is also incredibly brave.

Brave enough to stand in front of men much larger than her and defend women who were being harassed.

Brave enough to run into a fire scene despite having childhood trauma from a past fire incident.

Over the years, she came from a small town to Boston, building her career step by step, carving out a place

for herself at the station.

She is so resilient, so determined.

And yet I said those arrogant, cruel words to her that day.

Coldness spreads through my limbs. It feels like I am sinking into ice.

My throat tightens, “Where is Kristen now?”

A woman nearby answers quietly, “Kristen submitted her resignation a week ago. By now, she has probably already left Boston.”

I freeze.

Almost instinctively, I rush toward the door. Lindsey’s voice calls after me from behind.

“Damien, don’t go-”

I do not stop. I leave without looking back.

For the first time in my life, I feel an uncontrollable disgust toward Lindsey.

That day, when the fire broke out, she knew Kristen was also trapped, yet she chose not to say anything.

I cannot even begin to imagine what could have happened if the firefighters had not found her in time.

A living person’s life meant nothing to her.

Perhaps from the moment she ended things so decisively and left for her so-called future abroad, we should have ended long ago.

Only now do I finally admit it.

All these years, I was never truly using Kristen as a substitute.

Because she has always been irreplaceable.