Page 96 of Puppy Love

“A—”

“And Hayden.” He nods.

I swallow, a strong, stinging sensation tunneling through my arms, and I realize I still haven’t let go. My fingers relax, the skin beneath them raw and bruised. I look up at Violet, her eyes wide. Her gaze shifts to Avery, and I feel his head shake against my body.

“They’ll go away,” he says, pulling himself to his feet. He reaches a hand down to me, his fingers curling around my wrist as he helps me stand. My legs wobble underneath my weight, and I steady myself against the wall. “They always go away.”

Violet nods, and Avery looks down at me, his brows furrowing slightly before looking back to Violet.

“You got this? I have to get back to the pack.”

Violet nods, and my lips tremble as I stare at the wall.

Avery shoots me one last pitying expression before walking out of the storage closet. The door swings closed behind him. Immediately, Violet’s arms engulf me, the familiar form of her body pressing against mine. I grow weak in her arms, my knees buckling, but her grip keeps me grounded. We stand there for a moment, just melting silently together. Then, she pulls away. She brushes off the strands of hair sticking to my wet cheeks, and her hands cup my jaw gently.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her eyes moving to find mine.

I sniffle, nodding, but I don’t try to speak. I know I won’t be able to. The pads of Violet’s thumbs trace underneath my eyes, just like she had done at Monsey’s. But it isn’t like that at all, actually. It feels different. And I realize that this, I think, her, is what I need right now.

She pulls me back into her body, her nose nestled into the crook of my neck.

“You’re safe,” she whispers, her breath dancing across my skin. “And it is not your fault.”

thirty

Yellow Jasper

Violet

If you asked me a month ago if I had ever felt like I couldn’t breathe, I would have asked you how that could be. How your lungs could be so obviously filled with air, though your body screamed they were vacant. I would say it’s impossible. 24

But the night Reese was attacked, just before my body stopped feeling, for a second, I felt it. For a blip in time, my lungs constricted, and my throat tightened, and I couldn’t breathe. That night, I realized how fucking terrible it must be to live with anxiety.

Cam is stronger than me, though I don’t think she knows it. Something about that, about letting your body feel, no matter how badly it hurts, is admirable. It isn’t an easy thing to say after watching her completely crumble into Avery’s arms. I hated every moment of it, every second of her gasping for air, trembling and teary. And still, strangely, I was envious that she was strong enough to let it happen.*

“Have you met Wilson yet?”

My head snaps to Avery, who’s lifting a Tibetan Mastiff’s front legs off the ground from behind, hugging him like a teddy bear. He looks like an actual bear. Even compared to Avery, he’s massive, his fur thick and his jowls loose. I can’t fight the urge to smile at him.

“I have not!” I say excitedly, letting memories from days prior wash out as I walk over to introduce myself. I let Wilson sniff me, but he’s more interested in getting attention from Avery.

“Yesterday was his first day,” he explains. “He’s perfect.”

In the pet care industry, the word “perfect” means one of two things: said dog either does nothing all day or is a complete terror but is so cute you can’t be mad. My guess is the former, but sometimes, dogs surprise you.

“Well, hi Wilson!” I say, attempting to run my hands through his thick coat. Wilson stays stagnant, his body half-melted into Avery’s arms. Avery looks down at him, a loving smile spreading across his stubbled cheeks.

Though I try hard to know my coworkers well, Avery, for the most part, tends to keep to himself. He’ll make casual conversation at times, but never about anything outside of work. Everything I know about Avery, I know because of Adrian. Everything, except the long-standing tension between him and Cam.

That, she told me about.

Frankly, I struggle to understand what exactly their issues with one another are, given that they’re almost the same person. Avery might just be a little less confrontational.

It surprised me, on Monday, when he swooped in to help her without hesitation. But I wonder if that’s how things work between them. The rules of the “Homemade Family,” putting differences aside to be there when needed. I think that’s how families are supposed to work, at least.

“I just want you to know,” I say, smiling up at him, “that you stepping in to the assistant manager role has completely changed things for me. You’re beyond helpful, so thank you.”

Avery blushes, and his gaze lowers.

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