“I was married before,” she repeats again. “But I’m not now.”
I listen carefully, wondering where this is going.
Did her partner die, like Wilson’s did?
Did her spouse walk away from their relationship?
Was Sabrina caught off guard?
Was she the one that left?
“I was married for two years,” she says. “And we had a very long and very wonderful romance. Everything was special. Perfect,” she tears up. “And then one day, it wasn’t.”
I want to ask her what happened.
I want to ask her where this guy is so I can b
eat him up.
Every protective instinct wells up inside of me and a little growl escapes.
“You want to talk,” she chuckles. “That’s why I asked you to shift.” She shakes her head. “Sometimes it’s easier to talk when nobody can say anything.”
We’re silent for a minute. She gathers her thoughts, keeps touching my paw, and then she tries again.
“My wife left me,” she says.
Wife?
“We were high school sweethearts and I thought the hardest thing we’d ever have to deal with was the fact that we weren’t straight,” she shakes her head. “Nope.”
Now Sabrina does start to cry.
She’s not a quiet crier, either.
She sobs loudly, unbearably loudly, and I can’t handle it a second longer.
I shift back, and I pull her into my arms.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell her.
“Hey, you said you would shift.”
“What happened, Sabrina?”
“She left me, Reece.”
“She messed up.”
“She said I was worthless.”
“She lied.”
“She found someone better.”
“Impossible,” says a voice from the doorway, and we turn to see Wilson standing there.
“I didn’t even hear you come in,” she whispers, and he strides across the room, yanks her up off the bed and into his arms, and kisses her very, very deeply.