Cora kneels beside her dog, resting a shaky palm against Blizzard’s ivory fur. I kneel down next to her, doing the same, our shoulders melding together as our own respective memories sail through us.

“She was acting funny the night Mandy and I were getting ready for her birthday party. Bumping into things, walking in circles, panting more than usual,” Cora whispers, our fingers brushing together as we stroke Blizzard’s tummy. “Do you think she was sick and waited for us to come home?”

Cora looks up at me with big eyes as tears track down her rosy cheeks. I swallow, holding back my own grief, trying to be strong. “Yes. She couldn’t go without saying goodbye to her favorite people.”

Cora links her index finger with my pinky, resting her head against my shoulder as her body trembles with fresh tears. I snake my other arm around her, bringing her as close as I can, then twist my head to plant a kiss against her hair.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she murmurs, wiping her tears away with her sleeve.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

I relish in the small, hoarse laugh that escapes her as her finger squeezes mine.

I press the button a few minutes later and the veterinarian steps inside with her cart. It’s a cart of death. The doctor explains what’s going to happen, that it will be peaceful and painless, that the medicine will stop Blizzard’s heart and she will fade away.

I can’t help but feel like that’s a perfect way to go.

It’s an emotional few minutes as we watch the dog’s chest rise and ebb until she releases her final breath, surrounded by her rescuers—surrounded by love.

Fuck, I think I might lose it.

The doctor issues us her condolences and begins to drag the cart out of the room. “Blizzard was a wonderful family member, Miss Lawson. I’m very sorry for your loss. I’ll let you and your boyfriend say your final goodbyes now. Feel free to step out whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush.”

Boyfriend. I suppose we do look like two grieving lovers, pressed up against each other, fingers intertwined. Cora doesn’t correct the mistake as the door clicks closed.

When an eerie silence fills the room and I glance down at Blizzard, lifeless and unmoving, something in my heart clenches. My bones physically ache and my lungs fill with impossible grief. I lean back against the wooden bench behind me, inhaling a few shuddering breaths, and then I let go. I press my palm over my face as tears sting my eyes, spilling out, depositing into the cracks of my fingers. Cora immediately scoots backwards on the floor, sliding up beside me and leaning in. She wraps both arms around me and presses her cheek to my chest, holding me as I cry my fucking heart out over this fluffy little friend I’m going to miss the hell out of, and so much more.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I breathe out, hating the way my voice splits and wavers as I scrub a hand over my face.