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“As long as you didn’t shrink them.”
“I hope not!”
Neil chuckled. “They’re old clothes, anyway. And once again, they look better on you than they do on me.”
“I bet that’s not true.”
I had meant my words to be self-deprecating, not a compliment towards Neil, but the way they came out sounded like flirting.
Neil’s eyes widened a fraction, and I caught a fleeting look of curiosity as he tried to interpret my remark. A hint of colour edged up his neck, then he broke eye contact. The silence was thick until Archie scurried over to greet me, his nails clicking on the floorboards. I lavished him with pats and baby talk while Neil looked on, his demeanour relaxing.
“Are you hungry?” Neil asked.
“Very,” I replied.
“Pizza?”
“Good idea.”
“I’ll put an order in. Do you want to look at the menu?”
“Yes, please.”
He pulled it up on his phone and passed it across to me. I scanned the list. “Vegetarian?” I asked.
“Yes, for me. But you can get whatever you like.”
“I’m fine with vegetarian too. What about the hot chilli pizza? Do you like spice?”
“I love spice.”
His smooth assertion made me forget myself for a second, then I handed his phone back, flustered. “Then that’s my choice.”
Neil finished making the order, then something caught his attention. “Ah. There she is.”
Chichi had emerged to suss out the new arrival. She approached Archie with her head held high and her tail in the air. Archie tried to get a good sniff as she circled him. Meanwhile, I spied Bowey keeping his distance, watching the unfolding situation warily from atop a bookshelf.
“Looks like Bowey’s still not ready to introduce himself,” I said.
Neil grimaced. “He’s a big scaredy cat. It will take some adjustment, but I’m sure they’ll warm up to each other, eventually.”
Chichi flicked her tail with indifference, returning to her napping spot on the rug, while Archie gave a hoarse whine and flopped onto the floor.
As we waited for the pizza, Neil and I sat crossed-legged, playing with Archie. Neil cradled the dog’s head in his hands with tender affection. “This is the first time I’ve owned a dog since Rufus,” he murmured, a distant look in his eyes.
“Was Rufus your childhood dog?”
Neil gave a solemn nod.
I sensed he had a lot of difficult emotions tied up with the memory of this dog. It would explain why he hadn’t wanted to talk about it back at the shelter. But now he had brought the subject up again, I wondered if he’d be willing to confide in me. “Do you want to talk about him?”
Neil inhaled a sharp breath. He stared down at his hand as he stroked Archie’s fur, gathering himself before speaking. “Well, Rufus was like my best friend. I turned to him for comfort whenever my father got abusive towards me or my mother.”
A knot tightened in my stomach as I pictured Neil’s younger self, lonely and scared.
“One day—I must have been about ten at the time—I did something to upset my father. I don’t even remember what it was. He said, ‘You’re going to pay for that.’ The next day, Rufus was gone, and I never saw him again.” His voice cracked. “My father knew I loved that dog. I think he killed him or dumped him somewhere as punishment for whatever I did. That’s the kind of man he was.” He turned his face away, but not before I caught a heart-shattering glimpse of tears in his eyes.
“Oh, Neil. I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”
