I watched another tear. . . watched as it decided not to follow its leader.
I nodded. “I learned it too late.”
“We're sorry.”
“Don't be, baby.” My hand cupped his cheek, my palm wet with his sadness, my face wet with my own. “Don't be sorry foranything.”
“So many bad things—”
“And they aren’t your fault. The blame is on your parents. Because of neglect and abuse. The past can’t be changed. I forgive you. I forgive Hell.”
Tiny feet indented the bedsheets, a small weight moving up my leg, paddy-pawing at my hip as his meow echoed in the silence between Woodrow and me.
I rolled my eyes, seeing all the tears I had yet to shed.
My hand reached out instinctively, my fingers meeting Woodrow's shaky hand as his did the same. Without pulling back, I held onto him, giving him the strength to pat our furry lodger.
“Hey, buddy. I missed you.”
The kitten instantly left me, climbing all over Woodrow, with his probably-too-heavy body, to deliver cute little head bumps to the person who loved him most.
It was weird to think, but it was almost like Bushy knew Woodrow from his alters, too.
“I guess you missed me, too.” The light in Woodrow's eyes dimmed, but our joined hands continued smoothing over soft ginger fur. “I'm going away soon, but Jolie, here, she's gonna take the best care of you.”
He smiled at me, his eyes moving to my flaring nostrils as he registered the sadness I was struggling to hold back. He squeezed my hand, but I barely felt a difference in the tightness of his grip.
“And I need you to look after her for me, too,” he told Bushy.
“Paint your nails lilac when you do them next. I like lilac.” Those words were for me, given before a kiss to my knuckles. “I love you, so completely.”
“I love you, too. . . but it's not time for goodbyes, not yet.”
“It'll never be goodbye. I'm gonna haunt you.” He almost laughed, then he coughed.
I wiped his lips with a tissue from a pack I kept bedside. The red stain brought further upset as I folded it out of sight.
“I think I have to rest again. I’m tired.”
“Do you need to pee?”
He blinked a single blink.
My lips tightened, knowing he hadn't beensince yesterday.
“A drink? I brought your favorite.”
I didn't wait for him to answer. For his refusal. I guided the straw to his lips and propped it between them. He sucked and swallowed once, humoring me. And then he spat out the straw.
Drops of chocolate milk splattered his chest, getting lost in the smudges of his prison tattoos. My blurry vision didn't catch them, but Bushy didn't have that issue, and he quickly lapped them up before stalking to me for another taste. I refused, placing the cup on the sticky table, nowhere near the coaster waiting for it.
“Goodnight, Moonlight.”
“Goodnight,” I whispered as I turned back to snuggle at his side, finding that Bushy had taken my place.
“Get some rest. Close your eyes, and meet me in your dreams.”
“Always.”
