You hadn’t realized just how special he was to you, just how deep he’d gotten under your skin. You didn’t realize just how much your life had interwoven with his. You never noticed that you stopped just planning dates, and just ended up just naturally seeing each-other several times a week. You had tooth-brushes in both places, underwear and socks. It was getting to be time to talk about moving in together. Even with only one anniversary behind you, you were sure they’d be a second.
You had plans to watch Sunday football together, but he never called you. Confused, you called him. He didn’t answer. Then his mother called you. There’d been an accident. Another driver blew a tire and lost control on the freeway. The man who meant the most to you was alive, but it was bad. Not something a quick trip to the operation room would fix, but bad bad. As in – we’re-not-sure-if-he’ll-ever-wake-up-bad. Swelling in the brain. Bone fragments. And other stuff. His team won the football game today.
When the hospital finally kicked you out after visiting hours ended, you didn’t know where you to go. It was hard to drive through your tears. You found yourself driving to his house. Halfway there, you remembered that his dog had been left alone all day. You rushed to take care of Cashew.
Cashew greeted you, confused but happy to see you. You let him out and cleaned up the puddle in the kitchen. You filled his bowl, changed his water. Cashew was happy to take a romp in the yard, and delve into dinner, but after he ate, he noticed something was wrong. He looked around for his Master, then looked at you expectantly. Cashew’s tail stopped wagging. He whimpered. You knelt down and hugged him close.
“I’m going to be taking care of you for a while,” you murmur, tears falling into his coat.
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Captions are fictional. Sequel is here.