Page 86 of Single Dad Dilemma
“Appears that way.”
After a moment, Lily turned and stared back up at the sky. “And you’re still here.”
My lip hooked up in a wry grin that she didn’t see. “Is that your way of asking me to leave?”
She blinked. “No.”
I brought my gloves up to my lips, cupped them around my mouth, and blew. Lily mimicked the action and made a small humming noise when the warmth hit her fingers. “That’s nice. I don’t know those tricks.”
“You’ve never gotten cold anywhere else?”
“Not like this.” She blew on her fingers again. The gloves she wore were black, and too thin to be out in the snow. Her fingers were probably already frozen solid. With a sigh, I tugged mine off and laid them on her stomach.
“Wear those,” I told her.
She glanced at me. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine.” I gave her a quick look. “Unless you foresee this exercise going for the next couple hours, in which case, neither of us are prepared.”
Wordlessly, Lily wiggled her fingers into my larger gloves and sighed when they were covered by the thicker, warmer material.
From inside the pocket of her coat, her phone started ringing, and she bolted upright, the movement so startling that I almost jumped.
Using her teeth, she yanked my gloves off and answered the call, bringing the phone up to her ear. “This is Lily.”
As I sat up, I couldn’t hear who was on the other line, but watching Lily’s face was enough. The color drained from her cheeks, and her nostrils flared slightly, her eyes unblinking as she listened.
“Okay,” she said. “Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
For a moment, she stared forward, even as her hand slowly lowered into her lap. The hood had fallen off her head, and her hair was slightly tangled in the back from however long she’d been lying in the snow.
“I hate that dog,” she whispered, the slightest catch in her voice.
My brow flattened. “What happened?”
She let out an incredulous laugh, then stared up at the sky again. “He’s dying.” She rolled her lips together and her chin trembled. “What a jerk.”
I sucked in a breath and angled toward her. “Where is he?”
“I brought him in to the emergency vet late last night. He ... he hadn’t peed or anything in days. No eating. No drinking water. They told me to go home and get some rest while they monitored him.” Lily sucked in a sharp breath and pinched her eyes shut. “Oh God,” she said, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob before it escaped.
There was no time to question whether I should lay a hand on her back or even attempt to comfort her in any way, because with quick, jerky movements, she stood, snow falling off her back as she did. I joined her, watching her face carefully in case she crumpled.
“I have to go,” she said unsteadily. “They ... they told me I have to come in if I want to say ...”
Then she covered her face with both hands and took great, big shuddering breaths to try to compose herself.
Moving slowly, I reached out, wrapping my fingers around her wrists until her hands were away from her face. “Let me come with you,” I said slowly. “Let me help you.”
Lily’s eyes were bright with tears, but she held them in, unblinking as she studied my face with the slightest look of confusion. “Why?”
Moments like this didn’t happen very often. Where even the air between us, as it fell in pieces from the sky, felt fragile and precious. Lying to her did me no good. And I didn’t want to.
“Because I want to be there.”
The waiting room at the emergency vet was quiet. Only one other couple was off in the corner, laughing at something they were watching on their phone. The room was clean and bright—black-and-white photos of cats and dogs on the wall. Paw prints painted in a crooked line underneath.
I sent my mom a text letting her know why I was gone with no notice, and she promised they’d explain to Griffin and Ruby when they arrived from the airport. Resting my elbows on my knees, I leaned forward and set my head in my hands.
