Regrets Can't Change the Past

“We should get a puppy,” Ryan suggests out of nowhere. He’s sitting at the kitchen table with his notebook while Brendon is up, making dinner.

“I don’t think so,” Brendon answers.

“Why not?”

“Because getting a puppy means taking care of a puppy, and neither of us have any time to take care of a puppy.”

“But they’re cute.”

“But they’re work.”

“But they’re cute,” Ryan says again.

“Why do you suddenly want a puppy so bad?” Brendon asks.

“I just thought it’d be nice,” he shrugs. “I mean, when I’m at home and you’re at work, I get pretty lonely. I don’t know about you when you’re home and I’m working, but. I don’t know. I just figured that a puppy could solve that.”

“Sure, it’s a good thought, but a puppy is so much work!”

“It’s not that much work. We feed it and take it out to poop and play with it.”

“Feed it with dog food that we would have to buy, take it out to poop after training it to not poop all over the floor--”

“Okay, I get it, never mind. It was just an idea,” Ryan says.

“I’m not saying that it was a bad idea--”

“Well, kind of.”

“No, I just don’t think you put much thought into it. Besides, are animals even allowed in these apartments?””

“Have you stepped foot on the second floor? It’s like cat piss hell.”

“Oh. Well, still, it’s--”

“You’ve made your point, Brendon. I get it,” Ryan says, sounding agitated.

“Okay, you don’t have to get mad at me, Ryan.”

“I’m not mad.”

“You sound like you are.”

“Well, I’m not, so drop it!” Ryan nearly yells.

“You’re acting really immature,” Brendon says, his own voice rising. “Throwing a fit just because I don’t think we should get a puppy?”

“That’s obviously not why I’m mad.”

“Oh, really, because that’s how it seems to me.”

“I’m pissed because you won’t fucking drop it! I told you to drop it, so drop it!”

“I’m not gonna ‘drop it’ now, because now you’re being a total baby!” Brendon yells.

“Oh my god, you’re turning this into so much more than it needs to be! All I said was ‘we should get a puppy’ and you go off on this list about how much my idea sucks!”

“I don’t want to take care of a damn puppy, Ryan! Because after you’re gone, who’s going to be the one stuck with it?! Me!” Brendon shouts, and Ryan’s face falls completely and he doesn’t even respond, and then Brendon realizes what he just said.

“Ryan. That didn’t. That’s not what I.”

“Whatever,” Ryan mumbles, and he stands up from his chair and swiftly walks off to their bedroom.

“Ryan, come back,” Brendon calls out, following him. But Ryan practically slams the door to the bedroom, leaving Brendon on the outside.

“You can sleep on the couch tonight,” Ryan says from the other side of the closed door.

“Ryan, come on, stop it! You know I didn’t mean that like that. I’m sorry! Ryan, come on!”

Ryan doesn’t even answer.

***

The next day before coming home from work, Brendon makes a stop. And then another stop. And as he walks through the hallways towards their apartment, he’s weighed down by a paper grocery bag and is being pulled along by a tiny ball of light brown fur.

When he opens the door to the apartment, Ryan is inside, just as he’d expected.

“What’s that?” Ryan asks immediately. Brendon smiles, dropping the grocery bag full of dog food and supplies, and unclips the leash, letting the puppy run.

“That is Toby,” Brendon says. “He’s a puppy.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Ryan says as Toby runs right up to him, panting and jumping, almost asking to be picked up, so Ryan complies.

“You wanted a puppy, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but--” Ryan breaks off, laughing as Toby licks his face.

“He likes you already!” Brendon grins.

“I thought you didn’t want--”

“Don’t worry about what I may or may not have wanted,” Brendon tells him.

“You know, you can’t just get me a puppy every time we have a fight and then expect everything to be good,” Ryan says, but he’s smiling.

“Oh, I know that. But there’s always cats and…hamsters, and, if I’m really desperate, monkeys.”

“Get over here,” Ryan says, reaching out to Brendon and pulling him in for a kiss. Until Toby starts licking both of them, and they break away, laughing.

***

“They’re cutting people at work,” Ryan tells Brendon. “I have a feeling they might fire me.”

“Okay. Well…if they do, then…that’s fine.”

“I can find a new job.”

“No, no. You know, don’t even worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about getting a job?”

“No. I mean, I’ll still have one. We’ll manage.”

***

Ryan gets fired and Brendon works more hours.

***

“Hey, Toby,” Brendon says, coming home from work and patting the excited puppy on the head. “Where’s Ryan, hm?” he asks, ignoring the dog’s request to be pet more and walking through the kitchen and living room, peeking into the bedroom and bathroom, not finding Ryan anywhere.

It’s times like these when he really wishes that they had enough money for cell phones because he really has no idea where his husband (he still giggles every time he uses that word) is.

Right when he’s about to panic, Ryan walks through the front door.

“Where were you?” Brendon immediately asks.

“I was at the library,” Ryan tells him. “Needed to use a computer.”

“I was worried! You could have left a note or something!”

“I did,” Ryan says, smiling, and points to the refrigerator where a piece of paper is stuck to the door, and Brendon suddenly feels incredibly stupid.

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed,” Ryan laughs.

***

“Your white blood cells are low,” Doctor Williams says.

“I’ve been taking all of my medication lately. I don’t want to die anymore. I want to stay alive for as long as I can. I have a family now. I got married. I have a husband and a dog. I want to stay with them as long as I can.”

***

It’s well past midnight and they’re in bed. Brendon is asleep and Toby is asleep at the foot of the bed, but Ryan can’t sleep. He can’t sleep because he’s sweating and shaking and he doesn’t know why and he doesn’t know how to make it stop. Soft whimpers fall from his mouth and in the dark, he can see Brendon slowly opening his eyes and then he feels his hand on his arm.

“Ryan.”

He closes his eyes because he doesn’t want to see Brendon’s worried face.

“Ryan, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Fine,” is all he manages to get out, and he reaches for Brendon, just wanting his closeness. Brendon gets it, wrapping his arms around Ryan’s shaking body, trying not to panic because he knows that panic is the last thing Ryan needs.

“Ryan, you’re scaring me,” Brendon barely whispers, burying his face in Ryan’s neck and Ryan tries not to notice the teardrops that fall on his skin.

Neither of them know how long they lay like that, but eventually, Ryan stops shaking as he slips into an uneasy sleep. Brendon can’t fall back to sleep, though. He watches the outline of Ryan’s silhouette in the dark, tracing the curves of his face with his finger. He pauses every few minutes, wiping his wet eyes with the back of his hand.

“I’m scared,” he whispers to Ryan. He knows that he’s asleep, but he wouldn’t say the words to him if he were awake. “I’m so scared to lose you.”