Page 84 of One More Chance
Once I woke the following morning, I ambled into the kitchen. Sloane was already in the living room, sitting with her back to the boarded up, broken glass doors. The rough wooden planks filtered the sunlight into a dull, hazy glow.
The floor had been swept clean, but I still sensed the remnants of last night’s chaos. Tiny shards of glass clung stubbornly in the corners, hidden from plain sight but impossible to ignore once you knew they were there.
What was missing was even more noticeable. The distinct absence of the coffee table I'd slammed Angie into. A lumpy, old dog bed that sat empty by the window.
It all screamed that Angie had been there. She'd broken in. Crossed a line.
I slid onto the couch beside Sloane, needing to be near her. Last night had driven a wedge between us and I feared any amount of distance from her; physical or emotional. "Hey," I said, my voice hoarse.
"Hi." She was quiet and thoughtful as she cradled a cup of coffee, her hands wrapped around the warm mug. “Rufus is doing better.”
“Good. Did they do X-rays?"
She nodded, her gaze flickering back toward the window, her mind still seemingly far away. “Yeah, the clinic did everything they could: bloodwork, X-rays, you name it."
"That's great," I said. I pondered how I could ask what was eating at me without it sounding odd or out of place.
Fuck it, just ask.
"Did they find anything else?"
Sloane looked at me, her eyes narrowed and lips parted, but she didn't speak.
"Sloane?"
It took her a moment before she said, "Yeah… they did, actually. Cancer."
Oh, thank fuck they found it.
I did my very best to act surprised and shocked. "Cancer? Seriously?"
"Seriously," she said with an exhale. "It's a miracle that Charlie found it. It's very small. Operable. They anticipate he'll make a full recovery."
My jagged memories of losing Rufus in my past life, of not even being in the same state when he died, collided with a wave of relief flooding through me. My old boy was going to make it. He was going to be okay.
I nodded, tears in my eyes, and cleared my throat. "Cancer on top of everything else? A good boy like Rufus doesn't deserve that."
Sloane saw the emotion on my face and reached a hand out to touch my cheek. "Levi, this is good news. We caught it in time. There are so many pet owners that aren't this fortunate."
"I know. You're right."
She gave a dry laugh. "Honestly? That damned dog is super lucky to have gotten hurt when he did. Otherwise, we probably wouldn't have known until it was too late."
I leaned into the comfort of her palm against my face, her hand hot from holding her coffee.
She said, "And to top it off, Charlie's nonprofit is going to cover his treatments."
What in the actual fuck?
The night before, I had been far too exhausted, too distracted, too panicked by the relentless onslaught of events, I hadn't given much thought to those words.
Charlie's nonprofit.
Did Charlie have a nonprofit in my previous life? I honestly didn't know. That doesn't seem like a thing I would forget… but it also wasn't a thing that the Old Me would have paid any goddamn attention to.
You were too busy shoving your head up your ass and your cock into Angie to notice much else.
I had to stop spiraling and say something. I don't know what was on my face at that moment, but Sloane looked concerned as she watched me process this oddity.
