You & I

Tara came back to find me kneeling on the floor, because I hadn’t made it to the couch. I wasn’t crying. For some reason I couldn’t cry, maybe because I didn’t deserve to. I’d messed Jackson around for too long. Had he been an experiment? Because if I’d been honest with myself, Chris had always come first. Everyone else could see it, but I had refused to accept it.

"Come on sweetie." Tara practically picked me up off the floor. Her standard response to a scene such as this would have been to pour me a shot, but she didn’t. She simply pulled me into a hug. When she released me she walked away only far enough to reach our coats on the hook next to the front door. "Let’s go for a walk."

*

I’d been lying awake in bed for most of the morning. The curtains had been pulled across harshly the night before, and so allowed in a sliver of light where they didn’t quite meet in the middle. I had no intention of moving. I had already called in sick – the first time I’d ever called in sick for work. But I was tired, emotionally, physically, who the fuck knows. I just couldn’t be bothered to leave my room. It was pretty pathetic. I hadn’t even left the apartment for two days. Since Tara had taken me out for a walk 'to help clear my head' or whatever. Only, we’d ended up in a dog park and that in itself was bittersweet.

I didn’t really have the right to feel sorry for myself. I should have gotten up and gone to work. I had a roof over my head and a best friend who only had good intentions (no matter how it all turned out). That was more than many.

My boy drama was ridiculous. Jackson had been an ideal boyfriend, and Chris hadn’t actually promised me anything, so didn’t deserve my anger.

Yet I couldn’t summon the energy required to get up. Not even my curiosity when I’d heard a very animated Tara on the phone in the living room.

I rolled over onto my side, facing the door. My eyes shut until the faint scratch at the door forced my attention. Lazily I watched the door open, presuming it was Tara being weird. That is, until a furry little head appeared inside the room.

"Fudge?" He bound into the room and dived onto the bed, smothering me with kisses.

"Are we a little happier now?" Tara asked from the doorway, a smiling playing on her face.

"How did you-"

"No need to thank me."

Fudge was covering me with wet kisses. "But Helen hasn’t moved back-"

"Stop asking questions Grace and learn to simply enjoy the moment." Tara said. "Besides, Helen is the kind of person who should never own animals. Now she has more time for manicures and truffle hunting."

"They use pigs to hunt the -oh, right." I stopped myself, catching on to what she meant uncommonly late. Fudge had calmed down just enough to allow me to sit up. I swear, if you’re feeling even a little down, you just need the unquestionable, unconditional, love of a dog.

"Now get up and take the scruff bag for a walk," Tara demanded. "If he humps anything I own, you’ll both be sleeping on the balcony."