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We spend the next twenty minutes unloading and walking the dogs, making sure they have enough water and food for the rest of the journey. As we get ready to leave, I notice one of the puppies, the littlest one, staring up at me with sad eyes.
In a split second decision, I pull her out of her kennel and snuggle her to my chest. I shouldn't do this, I know...but I shut the back of the van and carry her around before getting into the passenger seat, Evan in the driver's seat.
He gives me a smile. "Too cute not to cuddle, huh?"
"You, or the puppy?"
I go still. The words are out before I have a chance to stop myself, and I can tell he's taken aback. A pang of grief and guilt shoots through me, and I stammer out an apology.
"I mean, uh...the puppy, of course. I thought you were asking if..."
I stop. I don't know what I was asking--there's no way I can get away with this.
"Right," he says, chuckling. "Anyway...we should be there in a few hours. Let's keep going?"
I nod. "Yeah. Let's keep going."
As Evan starts the car and merges back onto the highway, I try to shake off the strange feeling in my chest. It's been a long time since I've felt any sort of romantic attraction to anyone, but there's something about Evan's easy smile and the way he's so good with the dogs that has me feeling...something.
And I know I shouldn't feel bad about that--that David would want me to move on and be happy, that he's been gone for years--but it still hurts.
I really loved that guy.
That doesn't just go away.
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. This is a work trip, not a chance for me to start anything with someone I'm traveling with. Besides, I'm not even sure if he's into me. I'm a middle-aged, overweight, single mom...not a prize, by any means.
We drive in silence for a while, the only noise coming from the dogs panting and whining in the back. I hold the puppy close to my chest, enjoying the feeling of her soft fur against my skin. She's so small and fragile, and I can't help but wonder what kind of person would abandon her at a shelter.
Eventually, Evan breaks the silence. "You miss your kid?"
I glance down at the puppy, immediately recognizing Imight justbe using her as a stand-in for Alex. I laugh softly and nod. "Maybe a little."
"What's their name?"
"Alejandro," I reply, "but we just call him Alex."
"Nice name," Evan says, smiling. "How old is he again?"
"He's seven," I say, feeling a pang of sadness thinking about how much he's grown up since his dad died. "It's been tough raising him on my own, but I think he turned out okay."
Evan frowns, glancing over at me. "Where's his dad? If you don't mind me asking."
It's such a surprise to have to explain this to someone--I feel like everyone I talk to knows--that I almost don't know how to respond. Especially because...well, it's awkward to have to explain. People always get weird.
"Um...he died," I say quietly.
"Oh," Evan says. "I...wow, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize--"
"No, that's okay," I tell him. "There's no way you could've known."
I start to tear up a little, and I bury my face in the puppy's soft fur.
"I shouldn't have asked," Evan mutters. "Fuck, I'm sorry, Sam."
"I'm fine, I just don't uh...I don't talk about it very often," I whisper. I take a deep breath and try to collect myself, swiping at my tears. "It's been five years. I should be over it."
"You don't just get over shit like that," Evan says, his voice rough. "Don't be hard on yourself about it."
