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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Kenzie

My eyes are puffy and red after too many tears and a shit night of sleep.

I lift the one mug of coffee I get a day now that I am pregnant to my lips.

As I slide into the frigidly cold interior of my Jeep I turn the heater to maximum, yet its feeble warmth can’t chase away the icy grip that has begun to encircle my heart.

Finally arriving at the gravel-strewn parking lot of my clinic, my knuckles blanch as they cling desperately to the steering wheel.

Inside the clinic, a hush pervades the space, disturbed only by the constant, soft flicker of fluorescent lights overhead. I rush toward the back, where the slumbering animals spent through the night, and collapse onto the cool, unsympathetic linoleum floor beside the kennels.

Waves of sobs engulf me as I press my forehead into my knees, desperately seeking comfort in the silent, empathetic presence of the creatures around me.

"What am I going to do?" I murmur, my voice a brittle whisper that shatters under the weight of my heartache, meant solely for the ears of those who, though unable to speak, seem to listen with gentle understanding.

Slowly, my broken cries soften into hesitant hiccups when a delicate, plaintive mew reaches my ears from the nearby kennel.

Lifting my tear-streaked face, I meet the calm, patient gaze of a little tabby mother cat, nestled cozily among her kittens. Her luminous golden eyes seem to fathom the depth of my sorrow, offering a silent solace in the quiet of the room.

"At least you have your babies," I whisper, extending a hand to caress the velvety softness of her fur through the door. In response, the mother cat purrs.

Her kittens, fragile yet content in their protective nest of warmth, nestle against her, a tender bundle of fur and comfort. A bittersweet smile tugs at my lips, laced with the sting of sadness and a dawning realization.

Tonight, I won’t come home to an empty house.

Without a moment’s pause, I reach for a soft, worn towel and carefully lift the little feline family into my arms.

Cradling them close, I swiftly gather the essentials, a litter box, nourishing food, and snug blankets, before making my way to the front desk.

I scribble a brief note for my staff, explaining that, for a time, this feline family will be my cherished companions, and with the note left behind, I step back into the crisp morning air, clutching this living bundle of solace.

The clinic will be okay without me this morning. I’m no use to anyone in this state anyway. But the kitties will help. I know it.

Crossing the threshold of my home, I immediately sense a transformation. I gently place the tabby and her kittens into the spare room, carefully converting what once was a kiddie pool into a snug haven layered with soft, fleece blankets.

In a tender display, the mother cat begins to groom her tiny brood, her lithe body curling protectively around them as if warding off the world's harsh edges.

I watch this gentle act of care, a tender scene that stokes an unfamiliar ache within me, an indeterminate blend of wonder and longing that I struggle to articulate.

Settling down on the floor beside them, I cross my legs and lean back against the cool solidity of the wall, murmuring, "Looks like it's you and me now," as my hand trails along the cat's silky fur. "You're a single mom too, huh?"

Her response, a deep, vibrating purr, resonates like a silent conversation, dispelling a little bit of the tightness lodged in my throat.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, the oppressive weight of loneliness seems to lift just a fraction.

After arranging a modest dish of kibble and a bowl of water nearby, I retreat to the couch by the fireplace, enveloping myself in an oversized, plush blanket that seeps warmth into my bones.

The room breathes in quiet harmony, and I am serenaded a gentle, crackling murmur from the fire. As the minutes slowly spiral into the serene hours of night, a tranquil peace gradually fills the crevices left by my turbulent days.

My eyelids, heavy with exhaustion, slowly close as I am gently lulled into slumber by the combined cocoon of the fire’s glow and the quiet companionship of my newfound family.

Yet the fragile peace shatters when the sharp chime of my phone slices through the silence, dragging me abruptly from my own cat nap.

I blink against the morning’s dim light, my neck stiff from having slept in an awkward, contorted position on the lumpy couch, and stretch out a trembling hand toward the coffee table where my phone persistently vibrates.

Its screen casts a gentle luminescence, revealing a new message from Braden.

My heart skips a beat, a combination of anticipation and anxious trepidation pulsing through me.

With a hesitant swipe of my finger, I open the message and am met by a breathtaking landscape, a vast mountain range cloaked in immaculate, sparkling snow, stretching out beneath a sky awash in soft hues of pink and gold.

The early morning sun hovers just above the horizon, bathing the scene in a gentle, promising glow that whispers of hope and fresh beginnings.

Beneath this visual masterpiece, a poem unfolds before my eyes, each delicately crafted line resonating with deep emotion.

Love is the wind,

Unseen but strong,

A whisper in the trees,

A pull where you belong,

It lingers in footprints,

Left behind in the snow,

A journey uncertain,

But still, we go.

Love is a passionate ache,

A burn and a freeze,

An anchor that holds,

Even in the blustered breeze,

And no matter the distance,

And no matter the cost,

What’s truly meant for us

Is never truly lost.

A bittersweet ache blooms in my chest as I trace the tender script with my fingertips, feeling as though the words are etched deep within my soul.

Braden. His name vibrates in my mind, stirring a tumultuous array of memories, regrets, and longing.

I exhale shakily, caught between the relief of his poetic embrace and the sorrow of all that once was.

I miss him, miss the shared moments, the cherished memories and the laughter that once filled our days.

Yet, more than anything else, a solitary question gnaws at my heart with fierce determination.

Does he miss me too?

My fingertips graze the cool surface of the phone as I hesitate, his words reverberating like a drumbeat against my chest.

Pushing myself up from the couch. My eyes, raw from endless tears, stinging with unspoken grief, still refuse to settle into sleep as my thoughts whirl in relentless turbulence.

Grasping the softest, most comforting throw blanket, I slowly make my way to the spare bedroom.

There, among a huddle of blankets, the kittens lie in a peaceful cluster, their tiny chests rising and falling in an effortless, blissful rhythm. The small, dying crackle of the fire in the living room lingers as I lower myself onto the plush rug beside them.

The mother cat, sensing my presence, lifts her head and meets my gaze with sleepy, emerald eyes.

She releases a gentle purr; a rhythmic, resonant sound that fills the quiet room, and instinctively draws her kittens closer with a tender nuzzle.

I watch them intently, tracing the soft contours of their delicate fur, and feel a small thread of my own tension unravel, easing away like frayed fabric slowly mending itself.

These innocent creatures remain blissfully unaware of the burdens that weigh upon me, of heartbreak, of the dizzying turbulence of love that splinters itself among three different men.

Their world is simple. A safe haven powered by warmth, sustenance, and an unconditional, all-encompassing love.

For just a fleeting moment, I long for this.