Angus barks again, this time waiting to be let outside.
“Just a minute, buddy.”
Angus barks again and scratches at the back door.
“I get that you want out,” I mutter to the crazy animal. “Can’t I have a single moment to mourn here?”
Angus does a full circle, chasing his tale.
“Alright. Come on, boy.”
I open the door, and out he goes. I slip into my boots and make my way after him.
Since today is my last day here, I spent several hours last night formulating this big speech I wanted to give to Jane about staying in touch. Stating that as bizarre (and incredibly painful) as this weekend started, I had a wonderful time with her and wouldn’t change a thing.
But I’m grateful that I didn’t; I would have made a big fool of myself. Obviously, she doesn’t feel the same way. She snuck away into the night without a word, and I need to get over whatever I thought this might be.
“Angus, want to go on a hike today?” I ask, patting him as he bounded back to me.
The crisp air is cold but not as brutal as it had been yesterday. It’s the perfect time to enjoy this last day out in nature.
I pack a few snacks and bundle the both of us up before heading out.
We hike up a small hill behind the house which gives us a perfect panoramic view. The snow drifts between the trees, the tops of the trees and houses covered in white. I stand there, looking out at the picturesque view of Silver Valley. It’s beautiful, but without Jane right there next to me, it feels a little less breathtaking.
Angus nudges my leg, urging me forward. I continue walking when a rabbit crosses in front of us, blazing a trailin the pristine snow. Angus immediately bounds after it, and I follow him.
Jane probably isn’t even thinking about me, and here I am, wishing she was here chatting away like she tended to do. How can you miss someone you only just met?
You had something real.
She was a stranger three days ago. How could it have been real?
“Face it,” I mutter to myself. “You fell for the witty, sassy journalist with expressive green eyes and tiny freckles across her nose.”
What?Angus barks at me as if he understands my thoughts.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I chide the pup, feeling foolish. “You liked her too.”
Love at first sight is real.
I scoff at my ridiculous thoughts. That only happens in movies, not in real life. Yet here I am, missing the woman who was nothing more than a stranger three days ago. But our connection…it was lightning in a bottle. We sparked off each other from the start. I begin replaying the last couple of days in my mind. I try to think of any signs that Jane was planning to leave. But there were none. We shared laughter, stories, and even moments of silence that seemed comfortable rather than awkward.
“Angus, leave the critter alone. Come on, let’s head back and get warm.”
Angus waddles back to me, and we make our way back down the hill. The giggle of some children perks his ears as I see him pivot in a new direction.
“Angus, gentle,” I call out as he is off with a start.
While I know he won’t intentionally hurt anyone, he’s still a puppy and loves to jump. Angus is enthusiastic and desperate for attention, but he hasn’t realized not everyone wants to be licked or jumped on. We’re working on that in training.
“Come here, buddy,” I call out to him, trying to get him away from the child.
He jumps up on a little boy in a snowsuit who topples backward.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell the woman standing watch next to the wrestling match Angus is having with the child. I hurry toward Angus to get him off the child.
“Oh no,” the boy giggles as Angus licks the boys’ reddened cheek.
