His eyes widen and he turns to the side. But, like his broken heart, Max's usual couch seat remains vacant. He inhales deeply, sighing, and closes his eyes.
I'm hoping that a nap will temporarily mask my sorrow.
They were bonded for 15 years. Always together. The gentle waves calling, the seagulls cawing Trail hikes or just a ride to the store for something Martha may have forgotten.
He realizes he should be grateful for their time together, for the memories they shared. He's missing years that could've been.
As his eyes well up, he realizes how heavy his grief is, how difficult it is to even rise.
Unable to sleep, he casts a glance around the all-too-empty room, his gaze falling on the leash that still hangs from the door peg.
It appears to be patiently waiting for the next great adventure.
He turns to see Martha standing in the doorway, her shoulder resting against the frame, when he hears a shuffle from behind.
I thought you'd show up. Jake, I miss him. you'll never know.
Her voice has a distant melancholy tone, but he knows her heart, like his, has a hole too large to fill.