He was pretty sure she’d fallen back to sleep by the time he walked out the door. Taking a long, deep breath, he jumped off the short porch and hit the trail, his quick, steady stomping scattering any small critters in his way.

Before embarking on the path in the woods, he ran down to the dock to say hello to the lake. As usual at this time of day, it was empty and quiet. He pictured him and Kate down here, beach towels laid out next to one another, holding hands while they watch the sun come up. He had never been accused of being a hopeless romantic, but he really looked forward to doing that with Kate. After what she’d been through, she deserved anything she asked for, especially something so pure and simple.

Turning to head to the trail, he tripped on a thick tree branch. Looking to see what had nearly sent him sprawling, he noticed the gash of fresh, exposed wood in the center of the branch. He crouched down to get a better look at it.

Looks like something took a bite out of it, he mused. His fingers traced the grooves of what looked like teeth marks around the outer rim of the oval of fresh, pale wood. What the hell kind of animal likes to eat trees?

He picked up the branch to get a closer look.

Now he wasn’t so sure those were bite marks. It was probably just the way the bark had fallen off. What did he know about the great outdoors anyway?

No matter. He tossed the branch in the lake and went running.

* * *

Kate heard the door close and started to cry.

God, she wanted to be able to be out there with him. Her frustration mounted more and more every day. It was bad enough that the treatment flashbacks were making her feel like the Hulk boiling under a shower of gamma rays. Her growing irritation with her broken, truly fucked and out-of-luck body was burning her twice as much.

It wasn’t easy only being able to watch people slip by on their boats, listen to the warble of the loons at night, or see Andrew on the porch, reading one of his moldy books, a beer on the short table beside him, almost as confined to the house as she was. He said he loved every minute of it, this learning how to relax. How long would that initial fascination last?

Even Buttons was sitting by the glass doors, looking wistfully outside.

She felt like a failure, and that was one thing she had never told anyone. She’d failed herself, her husband, her family, her friends, everyone. What good was she to them when she could offer them nothing but a litany of complaints? How could she be a part of their lives when she couldn’t even partake of her own?