Sequel to Puppy Love
It’s been two years since Ash McGowan, exchanged rings with Remy Webb, and things are ... well, let’s just say married life has its challenges. From navigating the little things in life like making sure he has room to park in the driveway to tackling bigger issues like finances and communication, Ash is beginning to realize he was so excited for his wedding, he didn’t think about the ensuing marriage.
Now they have to figure out what’s best for their relationship while trying to do all the normal life things, like going on vacation, hanging out with friends, and -- in Remy’s case -- working through an intense ethical situation at work. In the end, it takes a life-shattering event for them to realize what they need.
While all love stories are different, everybody just wants a happily ever after, including Ash. But does his happily ever after look the same as Remy’s?
Trigger Warning: Contains discussion of suicidal ideation, descriptions of a school shooting, and traumatic loss.
I heard the soft clicking of nails on the hardwood floor, and watched as Bark Ruffalo slowly came into view, sniffing at the pizza box. Then, he turned away from it and got up on his hind legs, pawing at my thigh.
My forehead meeting his, I burst into sobs as I scratched him behind the ears. “I thought ... I guess I thought it would be different. I ... I don’t know where we lost it, bubba.”
He gently licked my wrists, looking up at me with his dark eyes.
“I guess ... I have to go.”
I slowly stood and made my way to the bedroom, where I began taking out various shirts and pants to pack. Bark followed me, laying in the doorway.
I continued to cry as I went into the guest bedroom and grabbed the small suitcase. Then, thinking it through and crying some more, I grabbed the largest of them and brought it back to the bedroom.
There, I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out my phone. I knew I could stay in a hotel, but it was expensive, especially where we had the nonrefundable trip to Corvallis all paid for.
If I was even going, anymore.
I had three options of where I could go if I wasn’t going to stay at a hotel.
I could stay with my sister Tori and her family, but I knew they didn’t have an extra bedroom for me, so I would be on the couch.
Mom and Dad had given Tori and me a spare key to the house while they were in Canada and Alaska all of July, so their house was empty. But at thirty-five years old, I really didn’t want to move back in with my parents, whether they were in the house or not.
That left my friend of nearly a decade Zharia, the PE teacher at King High, and her wife, Jane. I knew they had a spare room, but I also knew Zharia would heavily involve herself in trying to mend this marriage.
I composed a text message, trying to not be dramatic while still stating the facts.
Hey, Z. Remy and I had a fight, and I need a place to stay for a bit while things cool off. Can I crash at your place?
I hit the send button and set the phone down, picking up a shirt and rolling it to put in the suitcase. Just as I put it in the bag, my phone rang.
Sharing a dark look with Bark Ruffalo, I grabbed my earbuds and put them in, answering the call.
“Hey, Zharia.”
“Are you separating or something? What happened?”
“He just said we need some space, then told me to pack a bag and get out of his house.”
I heard several clicking noises, which told me she was tutting her tongue to think.
“Maybe you need a few days. Who knows what’s going to happen with all this, you know? Of course you can come stay.”
I let out a breath of relief. “Thank you. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Of course. Oh, and don’t forget to bring your special pillow. We can drink and get high tonight if you want.”
“Which is so different from every other night at your place,” I said with a laugh. “That sounds good, actually.”
“I’m really sorry. I know you’ve been struggling for a bit, but I was hoping it was just that two year itch.”
“I thought it was a seven year itch.”
“Oh, there’s that one, too.” She sniffed through the phone. “Anyway, I’ll see you soon. Love you.”
“Love you.”
I finished packing my bag while Bark watched from the doorway. I found myself blinking rapidly. What if this was the last time I got to see him? Would Remy let me see him if we officially separated and divorced?
“Come here, buddy.” I patted the bed, and Bark lifted his head to look at me. “Come on.”
He didn’t move. I wasn’t surprised. He was a stubborn little dog. I got down on my knees and moved over to him, and his tail promptly began wagging slowly.
“You know, you kind of brought us together, buddy. Are you sure you knew what you were doing?”
He continued to stare steadily at me, then laid his head back down. Maybe I was letting him down. Maybe I was letting both of them down.
I felt like I had changed, sure, but I thought it was for the better. I was becoming more sure of myself since going to individual counseling, but things had gotten worse in my relationship since doing so.
Was I really being gaslighted by Remy?
