Maria:
Birthdays used to mean something.
Not in a big, dramatic way. Just… something soft. Anticipated. Like a quiet promise that the day would be a little lighter than usual.
Now it just feels like a date I’m aware of. Something other people remember for me.
I’m still at the clinic when Lily texts.
We’re going out tonight. Don’t argue.
I glance at it between appointments, thumb hovering over the screen.
I’m working.
Her reply comes instantly.
Then finish working.
I shake my head, slipping the phone back into my pocket before the next dog starts whining on the table in front of me.
“Relax,” I murmur, running my hand gently along its back. “I’ve got you.”
Animals are easier.
They don’t expect explanations. They don’t read into things. They don’t ask questions you’re not ready t
