Eight years, two months, and seventeen days had passed since shed shown her husband the door. Not that she counted every dayit was simply a date etched into her memory, the start of her real life. Their son, Jamie, had grown into an independent man, studying his final year at a prestigious university and barely coming home anymore. Just phone calls, a familiar voice on the line, growing more distant with each passing day.
*”Mum, Ive got exams, then a part-time job, and Lottie and I”* shed hear, masking the ache in her chest with a bright, *”Of course, love! I understand. Im just fine!”* And she wasnt lying. Her life had purpose. Order.
Morning sunlight, tender yet insistent, slipped through the thin curtains, painting golden streaks across the sleeping womans face. It whispered, *”Wake up. The world is beautiful, and its waiting.”* Emily stretched, savoring the lightness in her limbs after a deep sleepa hard-earned reward for years of rebuilding herself.
At forty-three, she felt thirty. Slim, poised, with sharp grey-blue eyes, she looked younger than her years. Her secret? Four years of routine: up at six, a run, a cold shower, a healthy breakfast, then straight to the office. She was a manager at a top firm, valued her position, and feared neither deadlines nor the sharp-tongued director who materialized like a ghost at 9:01 sharp before any latecomer.
*”Late again? Set your alarm earlier! Explanatory noteon my desk!”* His voice could make even the innocent flinch.
Respected by colleagues, she was clever, driven, always ready to help. Yet her personal life was quiet. Divorce had left a hollow space filled only by work, self-care, and her loyal Labrador, Maxaffectionately called *Maxie*.
His arrival four years ago had sparked those life-giving morning runs. Chocolate-brown, with kind, watchful eyes, he was her alarm clock, trainer, and therapist in one. Gentle, patienthis mere presence was her best medicine.
Years ago, when shed sought advice about breeds, a friends husband had said, *”Get a Labrador. Youll never regret it. A friend, a cure for loneliness, and a shrink all in one.”* He wasnt wrong.
Growing up, shed always had dogsuntil marriage to Robert. Hed loathed them. *”Bring home some flea-ridden mutt, and I swear Ill toss it off the balcony myself.”* The venom in his eyes left no doubt.
In the end, *she* was the one who nearly threw *him* outthe night he, drunk and raging, struck her for the first time. Shed wept alone, listening to him smash things before finally slamming the door, taking the bags *she* had packed. Fifteen years together, the last three pure hell. Robert had failed as a husband, a fatherselfish, bitter, never satisfied. That slap was the final straw. Thank God Jamie hadnt been home.
*”Good riddance. Well manage. My salarys enough. Better alone than letting my son think *thats* love.”*
She hadnt been wrong. Eight years of peace. Men? Kept at arms length. Robert had ruined her taste for romance.
One warm August morning, she rose and peeked into the hallway. Max sat waiting, leash in mouth, tail thumping. *”Maxie! Clever boy. Who needs an alarm with you around?”* She laced up her trainers. *”Come on, lets go!”*
She loved their parkjust a quick underpass away, a green oasis with neat paths. Mornings buzzed with runners, cyclists, fellow dog walkers. Unleashed, Max bounded ahead, glancing back to ensure she followed.
Thena yowl from the lilac bushes. Emily froze. A tiny black kitten cowered before Max, who stood stiff, wary. Her heart lurched. She knew hed never hurt it, but instinct sent her rushing forward
The world tipped. A stone hidden in the grass caught her ankle. A sickening *crack*. White-hot pain. She crashed down, vision blurring. *”Nono”* Her leg bent unnaturally. *”Maxie, what have you done?”* The kitten vanished. Max licked her cheekthen bolted.
Despair coiled in her throat. Pain. Fear. Thoughts of Max, work, isolation tangled into a knot. She tried to rise, failed. Tears fell freely.
Meanwhile, Max raced down the pathstraight to the tall, athletic man he saw every morning. The dog skidded to a stop, barking urgently.
*”Hey there, handsome!”* The man chuckled. *”Wheres your mum? Something wrong?”*
Max barked again, whipped around, and sprinted back, glancing to ensure the man followed. At the bushes, he stopped, barking loudly.
The manOliverparted the branches. Emily sat on the ground, pale, face twisted in pain, tear-streaked.
*”Good morning… though I see yours isnt.”* He crouched beside her. *”What happened? Your four-legged friend sounded the alarm. Remarkably clever dog.”*
Gritting her teeth, she gasped, *”My legthink its broken. Cant move it.”*
*”Ambulance, now.”* His calm tone soothed her.
It arrived swiftly. The paramedic took one look. *”Fracture. Hospital for X-rays and setting.”*
*”The hospital? ButMaxie! Im alonewholl take him? Dogs arent allowed”*
*”Absolutely not,”* the nurse confirmed.
Oliver reached for the leash. *”Give him here. Hell stay with me.”*
*”Butweve barely met! Im Emily.”*
*”Oliver. Its no trouble. Lets swap numbers.”* Simple. Assured.
As medics lifted her onto the stretcher, she saw Max whimpering, straining toward her while Oliver held firm, murmuring reassurances.
The ambulance left. Oliver stood with the dog. *”Well, mate, guess were partners now.”* They walked out. *”Home first, then food, then my garage. Youll have to hold the fort awhile.”*
Max trotted obediently, though his drooping posture screamed how much he missed her.
Oliver owned a garage and parts shop. Nearly a year alonehis wife, spoiled and never denied, had left him for a younger man. Wise old dad had insisted the business stay in his name. *”Lifes unpredictable, son. Trust me.”* Now, Oliver thanked him daily. The divorce had been clean but left scars.
That evening, his phone rang. *”Oliver? Second General Hospital. Your friends stable, but its a complex break. Shell need time.”*
*”Any breaks *not* complicated?”* Oliver smirked.
*”Plenty!”* The doctor laughed. *”Visit soon. Shell be discharged, but therell be follow-ups.”*
Emily lay in bed, leg casted. The pain had dulled, but loneliness gnawed at her. Max. Her helplessness. Burdening a stranger.
Then Oliver walked in, arms full of fruit and juice. *”Hey! Why the long face?”*
*”Oliver, Im so sorryMaxie, all this trouble”*
*”Stop. *Max* is a saint. Sends his lovethough he *is* pining. Hurry up, yeah? Were bored without you.”*
He joked, told stories, and soonshe smiled. He noticed. *God, what a smile.*
A week later, discharged, she called him. *”Oliver, could you? Ive got crutches, I can manage a taxi”*
*”Already on my way.”*
An hour later, his car idled outside. As he helped her in, a chocolate blur launched from the back seatMax, whining, licking her face, her hands, wriggling with joy.
*”Maxie! Oh, my boy!”* She hugged him, tears falling freely.
Oliver carried her upstairs, then returned with groceries. *”Enough for a few days. Got to dash to work, but Ill walk Max later. Call if you need *anything*.”*
Alone, with a tail-wagging bundle of joy, Emily laughed through tears as Max nuzzled her*”Dont worry. Im here. Its okay.”*
And so began their odd little trio. Oliver came dailywalked Max mornings so she could rest, returned evenings with food, cooked, helped. He drove her to check-ups, steadied her on crutches, made her laugh. They talked books, old films, the quiet joy of order.
She saw past his confidencea lonely, wounded heart, afraid to trust again. He saw her strength, her fragility, her quiet gratitude.
Months passed. The cast came off. One grey, drizzlyOn a rainy afternoon, Oliver arrived with champagne and roses, dropped to one knee, and asked, *”Marry meMax and I cant imagine life without you,”* and as she whispered *”Yes,”* the dog barked joyfully, his tail thumping like a heartbeat finally made whole.
