Ethan
It takes almost an hour to get Paisley down for a nap, she’s so distraught by the idea of losing one of her parents. I feel like an absolute monster: as if it wasn’t bad enough that the other pups now think I’m a villain, my daughter’s obvious pain is ripping me to pieces.
When I finally get Paisley down, I join Jane in the kitchen. She’s standing over the stove stirring vegetables in a pan, silent tears sliding down her cheeks. “Hey,” I murmur, reaching for her arm, “what is it?”
Jane jumps three feet in the air, turning towards me in surprise and hastily swiping at her tears. “Hi,” she hiccups, “I’m sorry, I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to apologize for crying.” I tell her softly. “And you’re clearly not fine.”
“I am.” She insists stubbornly, sliding out of my reach, “this is jus
