Page 154 of What Should Have Been Ours

Go on—open the door.

She’s waiting for you.

Her name is Cocoa. And I think she’s gonna love you almost as much as I do.

Kinsley jumps in place, barely containing herself. “Go! Open it!”

With tears in my eyes, I unlock the door.

The second it opens, a small chocolate lab puppy barrels toward me, tail wagging as she jumps into my lap, and licks my face.

I’m both laughing and sobbing while I hold her close to me. “What did your daddy do, little girl?”

Wes hands me the pink collar, and I clip it around her neck, running my fingers over the heart-shaped tag.

Cocoa Hayes

“Cam’s love, in the form of four paws.”

Turning it around, I see the initials C + G on the back.

I hold the puppy against my chest, hugging her.

She feels like a piece of him.

Like I get a piece back.

69

Gabrielle

It’s been days, and I still can’t shake this feeling. At first, I thought it was just stress, the weight of everything catching up to me, the grief settling so deep into me that my body was physically reacting to it.

But this feels different. It’s not a cold. It’s not the flu. It’s something I can’t put my finger on, and the longer it lingers, the harder it is to ignore.

I try to push through it, try to convince myself it’s nothing, but the thoughts won’t stop spiraling.

What if something is wrong?

What if my body is failing me?

What if I’m slowly dying of a broken heart?

What if…what if my cancer is relapsing now, too?

The thought makes my stomach turn violently, and suddenly I can’t breathe, my chest tightening like hands are wrapping around my throat and squeezing.

I fumble for my phone, my fingers shaking as I dial Kinsley’s number.

She picks up on the second ring. “Hey, we’re heading over soon to help with the move—”

“Kinsley.” My voice comes out strangled, barely above a whisper. “I—I know we’re supposed to move today, but I just can’t shake this feeling. I—I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I thought it was just stress, or I was just sick, or something, but it’s not going away. And now I’m starting to panic. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I think I need to go to the hospital. I…I just want to get checked out.”

There’s a pause. Then her voice softens, instantly soothing. “Okay, breathe, babe. We’ll figure this out. I’m coming to get you right now.”

“It’s just…what if my cancer came back?” I whisper it like I’m afraid for the universe to hear and get any ideas.

The words make me nauseous. “What kind of cruel joke would that be? After everything—what if—”