Page 132 of Mommy

I can’t. I can’t do this.

My mind has been screaming it at me non stop ever since I woke up this morning.

I cannot do this.

And yet, here I am. Trying to do it anyway.

My stomach pulls together, and even a deep breath isn’t soothing the ache in my chest.

Posie is part of my family. She’s part of us. The us that grew between Ivory and me, climbing up the walls I had put around my heart like poison ivy. Ivy that burrowed its way into the foundation until the stone cracked and let them all in.

I can’t⁠—

My foot finds the breaks, the car coming to a stop in the middle of the road.

Ivory lets out a little yelp, but all I can look at is the empty, dark road in front of me.

I can’t leave Posie behind like she isn’t part of my family now. I can’t even pretend to do that. Not even to save the other dogs.

I can’t do this to her.

I can’t do this to Ivy.

I— I can’t do this to myself.

After so many years of not giving a shit, and keeping my professional distance, I finally found the family I so desperately wanted. And I’ve reached a point where I care so much that it interferes with my end goal.

“What’s wrong?” The concern in Ivory’s voice brings me back into the moment.

Still staring at the road ahead, I shake my head.

“I’m sorry.” I manage to say. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just— it’s just, that—” Shaking my head, I shift into gear again.

This was a dumb plan. Or rather, it was a good plan, but only for someone who has no heart. For a long time I had thought I would be that someone, but I was wrong. I’m not, at least not anymore.

“That— that what?”

Making a U turn, I follow the street back. It takes us away from the mistake I almost made, and with every passing block the screeching voice in my head gets quieter.

“I can’t do this.” I finally say the words out loud. “You were right about this, it’s not worth it.”

Nothing is worth the trauma we would’ve dumped on Posie tonight. No matter how well intentioned it might have been, it wouldn’t have been fair. Who am I to decide that one dog’s safety is worth the trauma of another?

Beside me, Ivory’s shoulders relax and when I hear the little sigh even over Isak Danielson’s voice coming from the speakers, I know I made the right call.

“Can you please call Ez?”

We took the car I got for Ivory so it’s her phone that’s connected to the speakers. The line rings a few times and then…

“Wassup guys, you late?”

“No, Ezekiel. But we’re not coming.” The guilt is weighing my words even though I have no regrets.

Laughter answers me.

“Ha, you are not a robot after all! Ey, babe! You owe me five bugs!” Those last two sentences weren’t directed at me. “So, who smacked you over the head? Ivory, was that you!?”

Wincing, I roll my eyes.