Misty
I laid back on my pillow and stared the ceiling, trying to understand what had made me break up with Ryan the night before. I hadn’t planned on it. He hadn’t done anything wrong. There was just something in his air, his mood, his attitude, that had rubbed m the wrong way. He hadn’t been the Ryan I knew and loved.
My puppy, Misty, licked my licked my cheek, and I absentmindedly reached out and scratched her behind the ears, remembering the day Ryan had given her to me.
It was our two month anniversary.
I heard the doorbell ring, and raced downstairs. I opened the door, only to be confronted with a pair of big blue eyes, coming from the bundle of energy in Ryan’s arms.
His own blue eye’s sparkled as he wordlessly handed me the puppy that I had admired at the animal shelter, where we volunteered together, for months.
I sighed, and looked over at Misty’s face on the pillow next to me. It was only when I looked into her eyes that I started to cry.