“So, what are you going to do about Owen?” Honor asked.
“I don’t know. I realize I need to close that chapter, which means I’m going to have to talk to him, but every time I think about it I get so angry and my emotions get so jumbled that I shove the thought of seeing him aside. And then when it comes up again, the whole circle repeats itself. But you’re right, I can’t let this wait until the wedding. It’s not fair to Ryan and Yolanda. I’ll take care of it.”
“It’s for the best,” Brenna said. “As painful as it will be, you need that closure so you can move forward.”
Erin nodded. She knew Brenna was right, but she’d be just as happy if she never had to speak to Owen again.
Closure was just some word that someone made up to make themselves feel better about being broken up with.
She’d never feel okay about what Owen had done to her.
CHAPTER
twenty-three
JASON TOSSED HIS surgical mask in the bin, followed by his gloves. He pulled off his gown and left the surgical suite, leaving wrapping up Sweet Pea to the surgical techs. He went straight to his office and uncapped the jug holding his ice water.
What he really wanted was a large whiskey.
Losing a patient was the hardest damn thing.
Correction. Having to tell Sweet Pea’s owners that their dog didn’t make it through surgery was going to be the hardest thing.
He knew going in that it was going to be a difficult surgery, and had let Clyde and Frances know the odds were stacked against their terrier mix. They wanted to do the surgery anyway. Sweet Pea had gotten into a tussle with one of the neighbor dogs, and she’d suffered serious puncture wounds in several areas of her body, along with excessive bleeding. At twelve years old, it was an uphill climb, and one the poor old pup just couldn’t make.
Now he had to make the hardest phone call, but it was his job and he did it, letting a crying Frances know that he’d done everything he could to save her beloved Sweet Pea’s life. It didn’t matter to Frances and Clyde, though, because he’d failed.
Sometimes this job was rewarding as hell. Days like today? It just fucking sucked.
Puddy wandered into his office, so he bent down and wrapped his arms around his pup. Puddy licked his face and it was just what he needed.
He ran his hands over Puddy’s back. “You know just how to make me feel better, buddy.”
But he couldn’t hide in his office, so he did rounds, checking on the other in-hospital patients, finished updating charts and reported in to Dr. Sunderland.
“Tough loss today,” Carl said.
Jason nodded and gave his report on the surgery.
“You did everything you could, but the injuries were too severe. I just finished reading your report.”
“Still sucks to lose her.”
Carl nodded. “Always does. That you care so much about the loss means you’re in the right line of work. Now go home and shake it off tonight, and come back tomorrow ready to save some lives.”
“Thanks.”
But he didn’t go home. He waited until Carl and Frances showed up to pick up Sweet Pea. Then he sat with them while they cried over their dog, answered whatever questions they had and hugged them both.
He’d lost pets of his own over the years, and it was always hard as hell. He knew exactly how they felt. It was like losing a part of yourself, a member of your family.
After they left, he grabbed his keys and his dog and got into his truck, went home, fed Puddy and let him outside. Then he took a long shower, trying to scrub off the feeling of utter defeat. He got out and felt cleaner, but the feeling of loss lingered. So he grabbed his phone to send a text message to Erin.
What are you doing?
She texted back. Paperwork.
He replied: You’re working late. Let me take you to dinner.
It took her a few minutes to reply.
Not sure that’s a good idea.
He frowned. What did she mean by that? It had been a few days since he’d seen her, and he’d been swamped with work at the clinic, but he thought things were good with them.
He sent another text. I really need to see you.
Again, it took her another few minutes before she sent her reply.
I am hungry.
He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until he got her response.
He sent her another text: I’ll be there in thirty.
He got dressed, called Puddy in and gave him a bone to chew on. Puds happily took the bone and trotted to his blanket. Jason grabbed his keys and got in the truck to go pick up Erin.
He needed to shake off this mood, because he never brought work home.
This was more than work, though. It was devastation. He hated feeling it, hated that it lingered within him. He tried not to let any of his clients affect him personally, but he’d been treating Sweet Pea since his first day on the job—hell, even before that, when he’d started interning at the clinic before he graduated from vet school. She was a sweet dog, her tail always wagging whenever he walked into the exam room.
Dammit. His eyes welled with tears and he swiped them away. He couldn’t get emotionally involved with his clients. That wasn’t how this was supposed to work. He had to remain unaffected, do his job and move on, even when the outcome wasn’t positive.
Which was why he needed to see Erin. She was a needed distraction, a balm to his soul.
He pulled up in front of the main house and parked, then got out. Agatha came around from the side of the house with Finn holding her leash.
“Hey, what’s up?” Finn asked.
“Nothing much.” He bent down to take the full brunt of Agatha’s enthusiastic greeting. “Hey, baby girl. You get bigger every time I see you. And prettier, too.”
“Stop.
