“I think we all do. Until it forces us not to anymore. We will pretty much all deal with some sort of chronic pain or illness if we live long enough.”
“True. But it probably hits a lot differently if you only have to deal with it for a few years, not most of your life.”
“Why does it feel like you’re trying to make it seem like a whole big thing?”
“Because it is. And you don’t need to downplay it because it makes you feel vulnerable to admit it.”
Damn him.
My gaze cut away. Hopefully before he noticed the glistening in my eyes.
He was right.
It was a big thing.
A life-altering thing.
And it was nice to hear that be acknowledged. Even if it did make me feel vulnerable.
“Okay. That’s enough,” I told Sugar. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you don’t need toeatit,” I said with a little tug on the leash until she left whatever it was and started walking again.
“I can’t believe Detroit made sure to buy enough steak for the dogs.”
Sugar had scoffed it up, her tail practically wagging off her butt.
She got some fancy fresh food on a rotating flavor schedule with different toppers so she never got bored. But, well, there was no beating steak. And she needed a meal after running around for hours.
“The club takes the pets very seriously.”
“That little fluffball was too much. She runs the whole place.”
“She’s a wolf at heart.”
“You don’t have a pet?”
“Not yet, no.”
“You don’t want one?”
“I’d love another Basset. I had one once. They’re stubborn pains in the ass, but they’re sweet dogs.”
“This is the only pet I’ve ever had,” I admitted.
“Why?”
“I think I knew from a young age that the clubhouse wouldn’t have been a safe place for a defenseless animal. Then, I guess, I just kind of forgot it was an option. What a waste of years, though,” I said, smiling down at Sugar.
“What if you eventually get that meter thing to track your sugar?”
“She gets to go into retirement. Maybe get a sibling.”
“What’s your plan when you get your club back?”
When.
I liked that.
Like he didn’t have a drop of doubt.
