What He Never Knew (What He Doesn't Know, #3)(45)

He frowned. “She’s nine, which is why she’s been here so long, we think. Most people want a puppy, or at least a young dog.” The kid stood, and Rojo turned her attention back to me, leaning into my hand as I rubbed under her collar. “She’s at high risk.”

“What does that mean?” Sarah asked.

When the kid didn’t answer, his silence was the loudest response.

I swallowed, a rubber band snapping around my chest as Rojo put one paw on my leg. I smiled, bringing my other hand up to pet her, but she didn’t stop. She pushed into me, nuzzling me with her head and climbing up until I had no choice but to fall back on my ass and let her into my lap. That dog was way too big to be a lap dog, but there she was, curled up in my lap like she’d been in the corner when I first passed her kennel, her eyes closed, tail still wagging softly as I pet her to the tune of Sarah and the volunteer’s laughter above us.

And in that moment, we all knew that Rojo’s days of being at risk were gone.





Sarah



“I think she fits right in,” I said, sipping on the hot tea Reese made for us when we got home. We were both standing in the kitchen just like we had earlier that afternoon, only now the sun had set, and we were both watching Rojo chew on her brand-new bone. She was also curled up in her brand-new bed, placed near the front door just to the right of the couch, and she had a brand-new collar adorning her neck as she chewed, tail wagging, a content little grin on her face.

She might as well have been a brand-new dog for how happy she seemed.

Reese smiled, and it was in a way I’d never seen him smile before — not until that day at the shelter. Seeing him bent down and loving on an old dog was enough to make my heart swell up to the size of a balloon. And now, back in his home, Reese watched that dog with a sense of protection and care.

“I can’t believe anyone would ever give her up,” he mused after a long moment, sipping the hot Earl Grey from his own mug with his eyes still on Rojo. “Humans can really suck sometimes.”

My stomach twisted, something about the way he said those words striking me in a way I didn’t expect. A flash of my last night at Bramlock hit me like a branding iron to the face, and I closed my eyes, squeezing the images away before I opened them again.

I wondered if those flashes would ever stop, if they’d ever fade, or if that night would be on permanent replay in my mind.

“Trust me, I know,” I whispered.

Reese turned to me, his eyebrows meeting at that beloved crease. He didn’t say anything for the longest time, just scanned my face like he could peel apart the layers of that last sentence I’d spoken. I could feel the questions swirling in his head like they were cars racing around me as I stood still in a parking lot. But he didn’t ask a single one of them. Instead, he took another sip of his tea, his eyes falling to where his hands rested on the counter.

“I wish you didn’t.”

My eyes snapped to him, but he didn’t meet my gaze. He just took another tentative sip of his tea before looking across the kitchen and into the living room again. He smiled when he found Rojo, and I turned, smiling, too, when I saw her bone had been abandoned, her eyes closed, legs curled up under her as she rested.

“I bet she is worn out from today,” I said.

“Her?” Reese asked incredulously. “I feel like I need to sleep for two days.”

I laughed. “Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Tell that to my lethargic body.”

“What was it that zapped your energy?”

Reese shrugged. “I don’t know, seeing all those dogs just waiting to be picked, to be taken home, to not be in that shitty kennel anymore. What an awful existence.” He paused, frowning. “Honestly, I think it exhausted me because I know exactly how that feels.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“I mean, none of them asked to be there. They were good dogs. They loved their owners, at least, those who had the chance to have owners.” Reese tapped his thumb on the handle of his mug, still watching Rojo. “But, that’s what makes it such a bitch. You can love someone, give them everything you have, and still not be enough.”

My heart squeezed, and I willed Reese to look at me, to let him see himself through my eyes.

But I understood what he meant.

“That’s kind of how I feel about piano,” I said softly.

Reese finally turned his attention back to me. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” I tried, eyes finding the ceiling as I searched for the right words. “Like I told you, I’ve never been in love with another human, but I’ve loved the piano ever since I first touched it, since it first touched me.” I smiled, shaking my head as the feeling filled me from the heart out. “I mean, I have given everything to piano. I’ve sacrificed dating, friendships, nights out on the town in college.” I swallowed then, finding Reese’s gaze. “Time with family. And maybe even a little time I should have given to myself.”

Reese nodded in understanding, his lips pressed together.

“But, I wanted to. I wanted to give myself to the piano, and I still do… I just realized when I left Bramlock that sometimes, no matter how much you love someone or something, and no matter how much you’re willing to give up for it…” A shiver raced down my spine. “Sometimes, like you said, you’re just not enough.”