He’s the reason I’m in this mess in the first place. If he hadn’t burst into the vet clinic that night, I’d still be living alone, working eighty hours a week, and watching Netflix until my eyeballs bled.
It sounds bad when I say it like that. But it really wasn’t. It was better than watching garbage in a shitty motel room in whatever the name of this bumfuck town is, at least.
Lukas coughs twice suddenly. His little body jolts from the sudden attack before he settles back down without ever opening his eyes.
Which brings me to the other half of the dilemma. That life that Dima stole from me—the Netflix life, the simple life, the work-until-I-can’t-keep-my-eyes-open-anymore life?
It wasn’t better than this.
It wasn’t better than Lukas.
He’s perfect. Sleeping or crying, feeding or burp
