Cricket scrambles up between them, squeezing herself into the narrow strip of space left between my legs like she’s afraid she might miss something important if she stays on the floor.
“Well look at you three,” I murmur, running a hand over Moose’s head while Daisy presses closer against my side. “You’d think I’d been gone for a week instead of a few hours.”
Moose lets out a soft huff and shifts his weight against my leg like he’s settling in for the night. Daisy nudges my arm with her nose until I start scratching behind her ears.
The familiar weight of them around me eases something tight in my chest.
“You guys are terrible at personal space,” I tell them quietly, letting my fingers drift through Daisy’s fur.
Moose lifts his head just enough to look up at me with those big brown eyes that somehow always manage to make him look both extremely concerned and extremely dumb at the same time.
“Oh don’t look at me like that,” I mutter. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Cricket wiggles a little deeper between them, letting out a tiny satisfied sigh when she manages to wedge herself into the warmest spot available.
I lean my head back against the couch and stare toward the dark kitchen for a moment while my hand keeps moving automatically over Daisy’s back.
“You know what’s weird?” I say after a second.
Moose’s ears twitch like he’s listening.
“This couch felt a lot smaller a few days ago.”
Daisy glances up at me when my voice softens.
“Yeah,” I continue, scratching behind her ears again. “You remember him, don’t you?”
Moose’s tail thumps once against the couch cushion.
“Of course you do,” I sigh. “Hard to miss a guy that big stomping around the house.”
The memory sneaks up on me before I can stop it.
Cole sitting at the end of this same couch, one arm resting along the back while Moose leaned against his leg like they’d been friends forever. Daisy curled against his boot. Cricket climbing all over him like he was just another piece of furniture in the house.
He didn’t even complain about it.
Just sat there watching me with that quiet half-amused look on his face like the chaos around him was somehow entertaining.
My fingers still against Daisy’s fur for a second before I realize what I’m doing.
“Yeah,” I murmur quietly. “He’s gone.”
Moose lifts his head again, nudging my hand like he wants me to keep petting him.
“I know,” I tell him softly. “You liked him.”
Moose’s tail thumps once more.
“Traitor.”
Daisy lets out a small whining sound and presses closer to my side.
“Oh don’t start with me,” I mutter, running my hand along her back again. “You were worse than him.”
I sigh and sink deeper into the couch cushions, letting the warmth of the dogs pressed around me soak into my skin while the quiet of the house settles back in.
“You know the worst part?” I say after a moment.
