"The little troublemaker is doing fine," he reassures me, the corners of his mouth tugging into what might be a smirk.
"And how are you?"
Confusion spreads across his face. I don’t understand why. After all, it was a completely normal question. Of course I want to know how he feels about it since he hurt an animal, even if it wasn’t on purpose. I can’t imagine that this would pass someone by without a trace.
"I’m good," he replies with a frown.
"Were you there yesterday, too?"
"Yes."
"And the day before?" Gradually, I think I know why he stopped at the traffic light in front of our house four days in a row.
Cole nods. "Every day since Monday. If you want to put it that way, he’s the reason I’m stuck with you now."
I lower my gaze and swallow against the lump that has formed in my throat. His words hit me. And as much as I try to convince myself that he doesn’t mean it, I just can’t succeed.
"Shit… That wasn’t… Ah fuck." He runs a hand through his hair. "Sophie?"
"Hmm?"
"I didn’t mean it," Cole explains before he reaches for my hand. When he finds it, he wraps his fingers around mine and squeezes lightly. "I’m sorry."
When we stop in front of a brick building with the name of the clinic above the entrance, he lets go of my hand. I immediately feel the cool air on my fingers and miss the warmth of his skin.
A blond woman greets us with a smile as soon as we enter the clinic. "Oh! You want to introduce Buster to your girlfriend, Mr.Walker?" With that, she winks at me and stands up from her chair.
I smile hesitantly as Cole replies, "She’s not my girlfriend."
The woman just shrugs and leads us to the back and into a room full of small cages housing dogs, cats, rabbits, and even a colorful bird. It smells a bit peculiar, but I’m far too distracted by all the animals to pay attention.
"Are they all sick?" I ask as the woman opens a crate containing a medium-sized sand-brown dog with a thick bandage wrapped around its chest.
"Some of them are. But most are just recovering from their surgery."
I look at her in wonder. "What’s a surgery?"
Before she can answer, Cole speaks up. "We’ll manage on our own. Thank you."
She gives him a look that I can’t interpret but then nods and leaves.
"What’s a surgery?" I repeat my question to Cole.
He sighs heavily. "When an animal—or human—gets seriously injured or very sick, they need an operation to get better."
I still don’t understand and tilt my head, frowning.
"Did you ever fix anything?"
I nod. "Yes. I dropped a vase once. I tried to glue the pieces back together, but it didn’t work. It was just… too broken."
"It’s much the same with surgeries. If everything goes well, they’re successful and the patient gets better. But sometimes there’s nothing you can do. Just like with the vase."
I look around the room again as Cole crouches in front of the cage. Many of the animals have bandages and don’t seem very healthy. Some have a sad expression on their faces, and others even look scared. Pity rises in me, but I try to cling to the fact that they’re getting help here.
Cole’s voice draws my attention back to him and the dog. "Hey, buddy. Look who I brought with me."
When I look back at him, he’s stroking the dog’s neck as it leans its head in my direction and seems to be sniffing.
