She cries softly into my chest as I hold her. I’m still going to pay that prick a visit, whether Ross likes it or not. “I’m glad you came back,” she whispers. Relief floods through me when she says that. I was kind of expecting her to go all ninja on me again. I feel partly responsible for the predicament she’s in.
Was it my plea that stopped her from saying yes?
“I told you I’d be back,” I reply looking down at her. “Your dad told me what happened.” She bows her head, taking a step back and wiping her eyes.
“It was for the best, I suppose. Can we not talk about it? I’d rather forget it ever happened.”
“Sure.” My eyes drink her in. Her hair is piled up on the top of her head in a messy bun. She’s wearing a cute pink onesie that, believe it or not, looks incredibly sexy on her. She looks just like the kid I fell in love with. There’s something so sweet about her. She’s like nothing I’ve ever known. Perfect is the word that springs to mind. “Can I come in?” I ask.
“Of course.” She moves to the side so I can pass. I hear a whimpering sound coming from behind me. I stop, remembering the gift. “What was that noise?”
“I bought you something.” Christ I hope I did the right thing.
“You did?” A brief smile crosses her face. Bending down, I pick up the envelope that contains the drawings.
“I found these. Don’t look at them now. They’re some drawings I did years ago of Larry. I thought you might like to have them.” Tears pool in her eyes and now I feel like a dick. It probably wasn’t a good time to give them to her. She takes the envelope out of my hand, hugging it to her chest. I resist the urge to console her.
“Thank you. I’ll treasure them.”
“I got you something else,” I say hesitantly. I’m now rethinking my decision. Bending down again, I retrieve the box. Jesus. I hope this doesn’t backfire in my face. Seeing how down she is right now, this could go either way. Extending my arms, I hold it out to her. “Open the flaps.” Another brief smile appears on her face as she places the envelope on her bedside table before her hands move towards the box. I lower my arms. After all she is a shrimp. She can reach the top, but won’t be able to see what’s inside if I don’t.
I hold my breath when she looks inside. “Oh. My. God. Carter. You didn’t …” When she looks up from the box, her beautiful green eyes are brimming with tears. Fuck. I’m not sure if that’s a good sign or not. “Oh. My. God,” she repeats.
“I hope you don’t mind. I know he’ll never replace …” I can’t bring myself to finish that sentence. “It was my way of trying to … you know … right the wrong.” I’m fumbling with my words like a damn fool. I’m not good at shit like this. I don’t know what to say to her. The way I see it, she tried to right the wrong that was committed against me all those years ago, and now I’m trying to return the favour. I also feel partly responsible for what happened to Larry.
Tears are streaming down her cheeks as she reaches into the box and lifts the little puppy out. I find I’m holding my breath again as I watch her. She clutches him to her chest and sobs. It warms and breaks my heart all at once. The puppy extends his neck and starts to lick her chin. Even through her tears, she giggles. “I love him,” she sniffles as her eyes meet mine. “I don’t know what to say, Carter. Thank you.” I place the box on the ground and pull her into my arms.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I tell her. “I’m just happy you like him. I have all his things in the car. Food, bed, toys, leash, stuff like that. He’s only six weeks old, so this is the first time he’s been away from his mum.”
I searched online for days until I found him. He’s a cute little guy. I bought the same breed as Larry, a long-haired German Shepherd.
“Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed this. How much I needed you back here.” I’m pretty sure I’m fucking beaming when she says that. She gets up on the tips of her toes and plants a small kiss on my cheek. My heart is singing. “I need to give him a name,” she says making me chuckle nervously.
“No need. Going on past experience, I took the liberty of already naming him.” She looks up at me again, slightly narrowing her eyes. It makes me laugh. “No offence, but you kind of suck at that.”
“I do not,” she replies, playfully nudging me with her shoulder.
“His name is engraved on his tag.” Looking down, she grasps for the heart-shaped medal attached to the pup’s collar. She starts to laugh. I feel my smile grow when she reads it out loud. I couldn’t help myself. The name I chose is brilliant.