CHAPTER ONE: COMPANIONSHIP

I never thought I’d meet someone who would give me the kind of comfort and companionship I never felt—even in my own family.

Haylee’s alarm buzzed softly, pulling her from the warmth of her bed. It was time for her morning routine with Finn—her loyal protector. A proud German Shepherd, sharp-eyed and alert, yet always gentle with her.

“Let’s go, my boy!” she called out with a smile, lacing up her boots. “We need to get ready and prepare ourselves. We’ve got a walk to take—and some food to fetch for you after.”

Finn barked in reply, his tail wagging like he understood every word.

The cold outside was biting. Frost clung to the windows, and every step crunched over snow-packed pavement. Haylee pulled her scarf tighter around her neck as Finn trotted beside her, alert but calm.

And somewhere else, not far from where she walked—

Each step I took echoed in the silence, softened only by the crunch of snow beneath my boots. The night was long, the wind bitter, and the only light guiding me home came from the dim glow of street lamps. My limbs were heavy, my thoughts heavier. I just wanted to reach the door, close everything out—

But then, I heard it.

A bark.

Not just any bark—but the kind that makes you pause, instinctively look around. In the stillness of a winter night, it sounded almost like a call.

It had only been a few hours since my world cracked open.

I wasn’t supposed to be there. I had left my phone at Edward’s place—typical of me, always forgetting something. I asked Natalie to come with me. Something in my gut told me I didn’t want to walk into that apartment alone.

“I’ll wait outside,” Nat said gently, sensing the tension in my eyes.

I nodded and walked up to the porch, but as I reached the window, I froze.

Inside, there he was. Edward. Laughing.

And not just laughing—his arms were wrapped around someone else. A woman I didn’t recognize. He tucked her hair behind her ear, whispered something into her ear. And then, without hesitation, he kissed her.

So casually. So effortlessly.

Like I never existed.

Like I never mattered.

I stood there for a moment. No tears. Just cold clarity washing over me. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and knocked on the door.

The sound startled them both. Edward’s eyes widened when he saw me. The girl pulled away, guilt blooming on her face.

“Haylee—wait, I can explain—”

I raised a hand to stop him. “Don’t. Whatever you’re about to say, I’ve already seen enough.”

Natalie came up behind me, ready to go full fury, but I gave her a glance and shook my head. This wasn’t going to be a screaming match. I wasn’t going to let him take anything else from me—not my peace, not my strength.

“Was it worth it?” I asked him softly. “Throwing everything away for someone who clearly doesn’t even know I exist?”

“Haylee, I didn’t mean for it to happen like this—”

“But it did happen,” I cut in. “You had a choice. You made it. You don’t get to play the victim now.”

He looked down. Silent. Cowardly.

The girl tried to speak. “I didn’t know about you—”

I turned to her with a calm smile. “I’m not here to blame you. Just… do better. Don’t fall for men who can’t even own up to their choices.”

Natalie held the door open for me, but before I left, I looked at Edward one last time.

“I hope one day, when the silence settles in and there’s no one left to kiss you through your mess, you remember this moment. You’ll realize I was the one person who would’ve stayed.”

And with that, I walked away.

Later that night, after grabbing a six-pack of beer and a box of fried chicken from the convenience store, Natalie offered to stay the night.

But I told her, “No, I need silence tonight. I need to feel it.”

I took the long way home, letting the cold wind bite at my cheeks. But it wasn’t the wind that stung—it was the hollow space Edward left behind.

Then I heard it.

A bark. Faint. Desperate.

I followed the sound to a lonely bench beneath a flickering streetlight. There, half-hidden by snow, was a small cardboard box. I bent down and gasped.

A baby German Shepherd, shivering. Snow clung to his fur, and he whimpered in pain. His paw was bleeding.

I sat on the bench beside him, my bag of chicken and beer forgotten at my feet.

“I don’t even know if I can take care of myself,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “What makes you think I can take care of you?”

The puppy whimpered again. As if answering. As if asking for one chance.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“We’re the same… abandoned.”

Carefully, I scooped him into my arms. He didn’t resist—just snuggled closer into my scarf like he belonged there.

I unlocked the door to my tiny apartment, the puppy wrapped snugly in my scarf, his soft whimpers muffled by the quiet hum of the heater kicking in. Snowflakes clung to my boots, melting into little puddles on the floor as I stepped inside, holding the fragile bundle close to my chest.

I gently laid him on a folded blanket near the radiator, careful not to touch his wounded paw too much. He looked up at me, those innocent eyes blinking slowly, already more trusting than I deserved.

The beer and chicken sat forgotten on the kitchen counter. I had come home planning to drown my sorrows. Instead, I found myself kneeling beside a puppy that looked like he’d been abandoned by the whole world—just like me.

I exhaled, pulled my hair back into a messy bun, and grabbed the pet first-aid kit I always kept around—occupational habit from the vet shop. As I cleaned the cut, he didn’t even flinch. He just stared at me, like he knew… like he understood.

“You’re calm for someone so small,” I murmured, drying his fur gently with an old towel. “You’ve been through a lot, huh?”

He gave a tiny yawn, curling up despite the sting of his wound. I watched him for a moment—his breathing steady, his body relaxing. And without warning, the silence of my apartment didn’t feel as lonely anymore.

I glanced at the crate of leftover fried chicken, then at the puppy.

“I was going to name you Chicken,” I joked under my breath. “But that feels… unfair.”

He let out a soft snort—like a laugh, if dogs could laugh. It made me smile.

I thought for a moment. Something brave. Something that sounded like a second chance.

“Finn,” I whispered. “How about Finn?”

He lifted his head, ears twitching. Then, the tiniest wag of his tail.

I reached out and stroked his head gently. “Finn it is.”

That night, I sat beside him on the floor, my back against the wall, chicken in one hand, his warm little body pressed against my other side. Outside, the snow kept falling. The city kept moving. And for the first time in a long while… I didn’t feel like the world had left me behind.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***