SWNOVELS Unravel Me: Chapter 27
Clarity has a funny way of making you feel like you’ve been tied to a bundle of helium balloons, floating above the skies with the sharpest view of your world, where all the answers lie before you like an open book. The type of clarity that comes with pausing, taking the time to reflect on your priorities so you can choose your future with certainty.
Connor is my everything. He’s my past, my present, and my future. But Adam, he’s our future. That’s the type of knowledge clarity has brought me, had me Googling Vancouver Vipers training camp dates , and Vancouver Vipers preseason game schedule last night. Google told me he leaves tomorrow for his first preseason game in Edmonton, so if I want to talk to him—and I do—it has to be today.
That has to be why I’ve been floating through my morning emergency rotation with a smile on my face, not an ounce of tension in my shoulders.
All right, I have to credit the extra shot of espresso I added to my iced vanilla latte this morning. And okay, it also helps that the emergencies have been nonexistent so far. We’ve spent the morning looking at old X-rays and their corresponding clinical notes and telling Dr. Holmes what we think was going on with the animals. I’ve nailed all of them so far, so I float a little higher as I head to reception to file the records away.
“It’s hard to believe after days like Friday,” Dr. Holmes says, “but we do have good days around here. Enjoy them when they come.”
My mind wanders back to a warm summer night when I crept out the front door, determined to triple-check on the baby bunny we’d returned to its empty nest in the park, to make sure its mom really did come back. My dad caught me at the end of the driveway, and we walked over together. That was the first time I told him I wanted to be a vet like him, and he told me the same thing Dr. Holmes did: that despite all the hard days, where all I’d do was cry and want to quit, there would be so many good days too.
The good days weren’t always the easy days , he’d said. And he was right. Sometimes, they were the days you felt like you were hanging by a thread, where you wondered why you chose something that could be so painful, only to watch a furry friend open its eyes when you weren’t sure they’d open again, when the arms of their human came around you without warning, hugging you so tight as they thanked you.
The days where you can look back and know you made a difference , he’d said. Those are the days that make it all worth it.
I know the days will be hard. I want to be someone who takes the pain of somebody’s hardest day and makes it a little easier to carry.
An engine roars close by, followed by the squeal of tires in the parking lot. Murmured chatter erupts around me as my colleagues gather by the front windows to watch our first emergency unfold.
“Sorry to cut our easy day short, everyone,” Dr. Holmes says. Her eyes come to mine. “Ready?”
I nod, pulling my stethoscope from my pocket, hanging it around my neck. My legs carry me quickly toward the doors, and I nearly trip over my feet when a dark blue pickup truck skids to a stop out front. When the passenger door opens, my heart stops.
“Is that Adam Lockwood?” someone wonders out loud, and when Adam jumps down from the passenger seat, his one-hundred-and-forty-pound dog limp in his arms, I’m already pushing through the door, running toward him.
“Rosie!” Adam screams as professionals and students alike surround him, reaching for Bear. “I need Rosie!” He clutches Bear to his heaving chest, his eyes tearing through the parking lot, sliding right over me. “No! You can’t take him. Only Rosie can touch him!”
I shove my way through, grabbing Adam’s face and pulling his tortured gaze to mine. “Breathe, Adam. Breathe, baby. I’m right here.”
Sapphire eyes settle on mine, red-rimmed and panicked. “They can’t take him,” he whispers. “I don’t trust them. I-I-I…I trust you.”
I cover Adam’s trembling hand, his fingers tangled in Bear’s fur. “I’m going to look at Bear, okay? But you can trust everyone here, I promise you. They want to help.”
“You’re gonna look at him?” Hopeful eyes bounce between mine. “You? Because he knows you. He-he…he loves you.”
“And I love him too. Very much.”
A handsome, broad man with deep brown skin climbs out of the driver’s seat of Adam’s truck, coming to stand behind him, squeezing his shoulder. I know this man from the happy photos lining Adam’s staircase, but what I didn’t know about him until Google told me is that Deacon Lockwood, Adam’s father, is a retired NFL player. A quarterback, to be specific, and I guess that’s kind of a big deal.
Among the worry, his gaze shines with kindness. “Hi, Rosie.”
“Hi, Mr. Lockwood.” We share a soft smile before I run my fingers through Adam’s mussed curls, cupping his cheek. “We need to take Bear inside so we can look at him right away, okay?”
His chin quivers, tears clinging to his dark lashes. When he blinks, they run down his cheeks. “I can’t lose him, Rosie. I-I-I can’t. He’s my best friend.”
“We’re going to do everything we can for him. I promise.”
“Mr. Lockwood, I’m Dr. Holmes, Rosie’s professor and the head of emergency surgery here.” She guides Adam and his dad inside. “Let’s walk and talk so we can get caught up on Bear and get him stabilized right away. Can you tell us what happened?”
“I don’t know.” Adam sets Bear down on the exam table. “He was fine last night. He was playing with his friend in the backyard, and he took up the whole bed at nighttime like he likes to, Rosie, you know? And then this morning, he wouldn’t eat breakfast, and you know how much he likes his food. Then he just…fell. He was walking, and he just collapsed.”
I smile down at the heavily panting dog, lifting his burly front paw as I press my stethoscope to his chest. “Did he vomit at all?”
Adam squeezes his eyes shut, his forehead creasing. “I can’t…I can’t remember.” He looks to his dad. “Dad?”
“Yes,” Deacon answers for him. “Bear vomited three times in the backyard.”
“Hi, Bear,” I murmur, brushing my thumb along Bear’s snout. “I missed you. What are you doing not eating your breakfast, huh? You never pass up food.” My big, burly guy whimpers, nuzzling my hand. The weak throb of his pulse in my ears squeezes at my throat. “I’m going to help you breathe a little easier, okay, big guy?” I tell him, fitting him with an oxygen mask. My palms slide along his rib cage, moving gently over his belly. Dread claws its way up my chest when I feel the swelling there, and the look I share with Dr. Holmes says she knows exactly what I’ve found.
This can’t be happening, not again, not this soon, and not to our Bear.
I wipe my forehead on my wrist before curling my fingers into my palms, nails biting in to still my panic. “I’d like to start Bear on an IV right away. He’s in shock, and this will help to stabilize him. I’d also like to do an X-ray.”
“What for? Do you think he broke something?”
“The X-ray will give us more information. His stomach is bloated, and there’s a chance it might have twisted.”
“What does that mean? How do you untwist it?”
I squeeze his forearm, and his shoulders drift away from his ears as he leans into my touch. “Let’s take a look inside and see what’s going on first. You and your dad can stay with him during the X-ray, and then Dr. Holmes and I will discuss what we see, and we’ll come back to talk to you about a plan of action. Does that sound okay?”
Adam agrees, and once Bear has an IV in and is stabilized, an X-ray tech comes to wheel him to another room.
Adam’s hand comes down over Bear’s belly, panicked eyes shooting to mine. “Rosie? I want you to do it.”
Warmth rushes through me when I cover his hand with mine, like my body has missed this, comes alive just for him. “This is Maribel’s job, and she’s really amazing at it. She has a Tibetan Mastiff at home, too, did you know that?”
Maribel smiles. “Even bigger than Bear, if you can believe it.”
He looks down at Bear, and I squeeze his hand, bringing his eyes back to mine. “I can’t wait for you to see how gentle Maribel is with him. He’s going to love her. Maybe even more than he loves me.”
His gaze flickers with something like disbelief. “That’s not possible,” he murmurs before giving Maribel a weak smile. “Okay. We’re ready.”
I tell myself I’m not jumping to any conclusions. I tell Dr. Holmes that I’m hopeful, that the X-rays will show the stomach still in proper position, so we’ll be able to remove any gas quickly and easily.
I tell myself everything is fine, but when those X-ray pictures land in my hands fifteen minutes later, showing me the damning evidence, they fall right to the ground, Dr. Holmes’s eyes following.
“Bear’s stomach is twisted. He has GDV.”
“I don’t understand.” Adam’s quiet, lost voice punctures my chest as he stares down at Bear, his head resting against his torso. “Is it something I did? Is it my fault?”
“GDV doesn’t have much of a rhyme or reason,” I repeat the same information I gave to Mrs. Greene just three days ago, only this time, I can’t swallow the heartache. “Bigger breeds with a deep chest, like Bear, are at a higher risk, though it can happen to any dog, and even cats. GDV happens when the stomach expands with gas and then rotates, or twists, blocking the entrance and the exit.”
“So the gas has nowhere to go,” he murmurs, a protective palm sliding over Bear’s belly. “How common is it?”
“The chance a dog Bear’s size contracts GDV is about twenty-one to twenty-four percent.”
“Fuck. Have you ever treated a dog with GDV?”
I look to Dr. Holmes, and she nods, gesturing for me to continue. “This past Friday we diagnosed a St. Bernard with GDV.”
“What happened?”
The words are lost to Adam’s brilliant eyes, holding onto that spark of hope but dimming fast.
“Rosie,” he whispers. “What happened?”
“Pepper—” Her name catches in my throat, breaking, burning. “Pepper passed during surgery. Her stomach couldn’t handle the pressure any longer and ruptured before we could release it.” A single tear leaks from the corner of my eye, and I sniff, swiping it away. “I understand why that might make you hesitant to proceed, but surgery is the only option. We would release the gas and set Bear’s stomach back in the normal position, then perform a gastropexy, which is where we attach his stomach to his abdominal wall to prevent future twisting.” I hesitate. “If Bear doesn’t have surgery, Adam, he will die. There isn’t another outcome.”
His chest rises sharply, and he strokes a hand down Bear’s side. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I trust you, Rosie. If you say he needs surgery, let’s do it.”
Trust . It’s a double-edged sword sometimes, isn’t it? I want it. I’m honored to have it. And yet I’m terrified to be the one to break it, even unintentionally.
So I only nod, praying I don’t have to do that today, and then excuse myself to have the operating room prepped.
Dr. Holmes catches me in the hallway. “Are you okay to do this? There’s no shame in stepping back. It’s always difficult, but when you have a personal tie to an animal—”
“I want to stay with Bear. Please don’t take me out of this.”
“If you feel your control slipping at any time, you let me know, and someone else can step in.”
“Thank you, but I won’t lose control.” It’s only a half lie; I’ll keep it together until the surgery ends.
When the OR is ready, I make my way back to the exam room where Adam waits with Bear and his dad. Deacon smiles at me, getting to his feet.
“Your mom is on the way over. I’m going to meet her out front.” He claps Adam on the back, kisses his head, and then takes Bear’s face in his hands. “You, big boy. I know I’m gonna see you later. I can feel it all the way down to my feet you love to sit on so much.” He presses a kiss to his nose, and Bear reciprocates the sentiment with a languid flick of his tongue over Deacon’s face. “You’re such a good boy, Bear.”
Deacon pauses at my side on the way by. “Thank you for taking care of my boys, Rosie. I know how much they love you.”
The words hang heavy in the air as he walks away, leaving Adam to stare at the deep flush the sentiment leaves on my cheeks.
“We’re ready for Bear,” I tell him. “Dr. Holmes will perform the surgery, and—”
“But you—”
“I can’t do the surgery, Adam. My job is to assist her with instruments and monitor Bear while I watch and learn.”
He nibbles his lower lip. “You won’t leave his side?”
“Never. I promise.”
“He’s going to be okay, Rosie. Right?” His words are drenched in desperation, just like the heartbreaking look dimming his cobalt eyes, begging me for a promise he knows I can’t make.
“He’s going to be surrounded by love, Adam. I can promise you that.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, watching our hands dance alongside each other down Bear’s side, nearly touching. “I know. You give the best kind of love.” He sniffs, his gaze coming to mine, and the trust that lives there grips my heart. “Thank you, Rosie.”
Adam crouches, taking Bear’s face in his hands. Beautiful eyes pool with tears before he rests his forehead on Bear’s, and I turn away, swatting away the single, fat teardrop that escapes and steals its way down my cheek.
“I love you, Bear,” Adam whispers to him. “You’re the best dog in the world, and my best friend.” He presses one last kiss to Bear’s head, and on the way out the door, his fingers find mine, tangling together, squeezing tenderly.
As he disappears into the reception area, I can’t help the fear that claws its way up my throat. And minutes later, when big brown eyes stare up at me before they close, the sedation doing its work, those claws sink deeper, unwilling to let go.
Because if Bear doesn’t make it through the other side of this, what if Adam never forgives me? What if, today, I lose them both?
ADAM
I didn’t think it could get worse. I thought all the shoes had dropped, and yet here I am, faced with the possibility of losing not only Rosie and Connor but now my Bear too.
How many fucking shoes are there?
My only solace is that I’m surrounded by my family. My dad paces the reception area, and Carter is crouched by a small enclosure, quietly showing Ireland a litter of kittens while Jaxon takes turns snuggling them. Jennie sits next to Garrett, her head resting on his shoulder, and Olivia and my mom flank my sides, whispering reassuring words to me as I wait with my head in my hands.
I made the mistake of looking up GDV the minute I sat down. Article after article that left me suddenly sure I’d never see my dog again because he displayed some of the most advanced symptoms. I didn’t stop until the clinic doors opened behind me and my friends walked in, Carter tugging my phone away and reminding me why he’s our team captain, a born leader, with a handful of words.
We’re not gonna do that. We’re not gonna focus on all the bad numbers. We’re gonna sit here together, because that’s the way we’re strongest, and we’re gonna find peace in knowing that Bear is in the most capable hands right now, and we’re gonna hope. That’s what we’re gonna do, got it?
So instead, I’ve been sitting here for the last hour thinking about everything good Bear has brought me. The loyalty, the friendship. The warm body snuggled next to mine in bed after having my heart shattered, the tip-tap of his paws as he follows me through the house, keeping me company. The goofy laughs, the belly rubs, and the gentlest heart.
And Rosie.
Bear brought me Rosie, and Rosie brought me Connor.
I wouldn’t have one without the other, and it doesn’t feel like my family is complete without all three of them.
Silence falls over the room, and Olivia gives my hand a small squeeze. My gaze lifts to her, and I drag my head out of my hands, following her stare.
Rosie stands in the doorway, weary green eyes sweeping the room, settling on me. Her hands curl into little fists at her sides, and she steps toward me as I rise from my seat. She meets me in the middle of the room, all five foot four of her staring up at me, that dimpled chin trembling.
“It’s okay,” I tell her quietly. “If he didn’t…” The thought of a life without him far sooner than I should ever have to think of it seizes my lungs, and I swallow against it. “You can tell me.”
Tears glisten in her eyes, and the corner of her mouth hooks. “Bear did great.”
“He…what?”
“The surgery was successful. Dr. Holmes released the trapped gas and attached his stomach to his abdomen wall. There were no complications.”
My heart kickstarts, thrashing against my rib cage. “He’s going to be okay?”
Rosie takes my hands in hers, clutching them tightly. “He’s going to be okay.”
The room dissolves into cheers, and my family comes around me, a tangled web of arms hugging me tight as relief slides through me. The feeling is so strong, so palpable it knocks the air from my stomach, makes my limbs weak. I sink into the love, the family I’m so lucky to have found.
My eyes open in time to see Rosie slipping silently out the clinic doors, hurrying into the parking lot.
“Be right back,” I murmur, detangling myself and chasing after the woman who just ran out of here with my heart in her hands.
“Rosie! Wait.”
She glances over her shoulder, waving me off. “I’m fine, Adam. Don’t worry about me.”
I catch her wrist, pulling her back to me. “Hey. Stop.”
Green eyes wobble, each breath sharp and staggered. “I’m fine,” she repeats, and the lie is so weak I nearly laugh. “You should be with your family. Bear will be awake soon. I just need to do something.”
“I am with my family, and I’ll be with Bear as soon as he wakes up. So tell me what you need to do and I’ll help you.”
She shakes her head, trying to pull free from my grasp. “I just need to…I just need to do something,” she cries, chest heaving as her face starts to crumble. “Please.”
“Rosie.” I run my palms up her arms, squeezing her shoulders. “Let go, sweetheart. Let it go.”
That lower lip trembles, and all I want to do is trap it beneath my thumb, take it between my lips. I want her pain, her worries, her trust. I want her to give up control, give it all to me. I’ll take care of her.
“I was so afraid,” she finally whispers, the words fractured and meek. “I was so afraid we were going to lose Bear. And I was terrified that you’d never forgive me for it. I thought I might lose both of you forever, and I—” A sob escapes her throat, racking her body. “I’ve survived a lot of things, but I don’t know how I’d survive that loss.”
Her agony wraps around my throat like a fist, threatening to cut off oxygen. When a fresh wave of tears cascades down her cheeks and she curls into herself, covering her face with her hands as she cries, I yank her into me. This time, I refuse to let her go.
“You will never lose me, Rosie. As long as you want me here, there’s nowhere else for me to be.” I press my lips tenderly to her temple as she clings to my shirt. “I promise.”