He Missed My Emergency To Deliver Her Dog’s Puppies Chapter 03

He Missed My Emergency To Deliver Her Dog’s Puppies Chapter 03

Julian’s handwriting was on the front of the envelope.

[I’d clear every obstacle for your dream.]

I stared at those words until they blurred.

Five years hit me all at once. Cooking his meals. Doing his laundry. Looking after his parents so he didn’t have to.

I thought about all the nights I watched my old colleagues scramble to prep for interviews, burning with the kind of energy I used to have. The jealousy had been unbearable. The grief, worse.

I laughed. Out loud, alone in his study, like something inside me had finally cracked.

So he did know how to protect someone’s dream. Just not mine.

I photographed everything. Put it all back exactly where I found it. And then I made a call.

“Brenda, hi. I heard the station’s looking for someone to report from San Perdido. The war correspondent slot. No one’s taken it, right?”

“I want in.”

Silence on the other end of the line. Then Brenda Cole’s voice came back, bright with surprise.

“Are you serious? God, I thought we lost you when you got moved to the back office. Listen, this assignment’s no joke. It’s dangerous. But if you come back from this, Clara, your career’s a different story.”

“Get your things together. You leave in a few days.”

I hung up and started packing.

There was nothing left in this apartment I wanted.

Except one thing. The sweater my mom had knit me. The last thing she ever made.

She used to knit for me all the time when I was a kid. But she got older, and her eyesight wasn’t what it used to be.

I told her to stop. I hated watching her strain.

Then I got pregnant, and I couldn’t stand the cold.

My mom made me one anyway, in secret. I could see her eyes were raw from staying up all night working on it, but she just waved me off.

“Nothing’s warmer than handmade, sweetheart. I picked the yarn myself.”

“You’re busy worrying about your little one. Let me worry about mine.”

I cried when she gave it to me. It was too precious to wear. I kept it folded, untouched.

Now it was gone.

I thought about the mess in the apartment. I almost called Julian to ask.

But then I saw Stella’s latest post.

[LOL I barely mentioned the pups were cold and someone showed up with a sweater]

[babies say thank you, Daddy!! and Mama did the alterations herself, thank you very much]

So that’s where he went. A puppy birthday party.

In the photo, they were pressed together, heads touching, shoulders lined up.

Three puppies each, cradled in their arms.

I recognized them instantly.

The tiny sweaters on those puppies had been cut from my mom’s sweater.

I walked into the pet shop and found them sharing cake off the same spoon.

Julian was a germaphobe. Clinically, obsessively so.

At home, he refused to share food. Every dish needed its own serving spoon.

Once, after a full day of cleaning, I was so worn out I grabbed his water glass without thinking and took a sip.

He didn’t say a word. That night, I found the glass in the trash.

Later he told me it was a hospital thing. A habit he couldn’t break.

Turns out it depended on who was holding the spoon.

Stella spotted me first. Her eyebrows lifted, and a tiny smirk spread across her face.

“Oh, Clara! Julian and I have always been like this, sharing everything since we were kids. Don’t read into it.”

“See, Julian? Told you she wouldn’t actually go through with the divorce.”

“Where’s she gonna go? No career, no money. She can’t even support herself, let alone raise a kid. And look, she followed you all the way here. Can’t get rid of her, can you?”

“God, I could never. I’ve got too much pride. Guess I’ll just have to keep running my own business like a big girl.”

Julian nudged her shoulder and grinned.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the independent one. Always have been. Such a brat.”

Then he turned to me. Like I was a child who didn’t know any better.