Third person's POV
Two uneventful weeks passed by in a quiet and unremarkable manner.
Tabitha was quite satisfied with Wilmot. The man was like a shadow, almost non-existent.
Normally, when Tabitha was inside the house, he would be guarding the yard outside.
He never stepped into the bedroom and rarely entered the living room.
He would only return to his room after Tabitha had fallen asleep at night.
By the time Tabitha woke up in the morning, he was already in the yard exercising.
If Tabitha planned to go out, she would let him know.
He would push her wheelchair, occasionally taking her to the supermarket for daily necessities or strolling leisurely around the neighborhood.
Apart from necessary communication, he spoke very little. Often, people would overlook his presence.
One day, he suddenly knocked gently on the glass door outside the living room.
Tabitha got up and opened the door, looking at him with a composed expression and asking, "What's up?"
A hint of embarrassment flashed across Wilmot's usually stoic face as he said, "Ms. Hartley, I just found a little dog outside. It looks so pitiful. Can we take it in?"
Tabitha put down her book, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "A dog?"
Wilmot slowly brought his hands, which were behind his back, to the front. His movements were somewhat awkward.
His hands were large, and the dog was small.
It was a tiny white puppy, not long born, with a piece missing from one ear, still bearing tooth marks, perhaps from some animal's bite.
At the first glance of the puppy, Tabitha's eyes began to well up with tears, almost spilling over.
Both the color of the puppy's pupils and its damaged ear were identical to Tucker's.
Thinking of Tucker, her mind conjured the image of its lifeless body falling from upstairs and landing cold at her feet.
"Is it..."
Tabitha felt her heart tightly gripped by an invisible hand, aching severely.
She reached out to touch the puppy but was extremely cautious. It seemed what she saw was an incredibly precious and fragile treasure.
For the days Wilmot had seen Tabitha, she had been emotionally stable, like a tranquil cloud in the sky, calm and reassuring.
But at this moment, she was disoriented. Her facial expression was as complex as intertwined threads.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Hartley, I didn't know you dislike dogs. I'll throw it out right away," Wilmot said, misunderstanding her reaction.
The puppy barked "woof woof" in Wilmot's hands. Its innocent cries made Tabitha anxious.
She quickly said, "Don't throw it away! Give it to me." She took the puppy from Wilmot without any hesitation.
The puppy's fur was soft and fluffy. Its body was a bit dirty, but its eyes were as pure and clear as a child's, without any impurities. It looked at Tabitha curiously, showing no fear of strangers.
Tabitha whispered softly, "Tucker, are you coming back?"
Wilmot asked curiously, "Ms. Hartley, do you know this dog?"
"I used to have a dog that looked very similar to this puppy," Tabitha replied, holding the puppy lovingly in her arms.
The man reminded her, "Ms. Hartley, if you want to keep it, it's better to take it to the vet first. The dog is likely a stray and might not healthy and clean. It's better to check and treat it in advance, and it also needs a good bath."
"Alright, you take care of this, can you? No, I'll go with you," Tabitha decided.
She took this puppy as Tucker. Her usually gloomy face finally showed a different hue.
"We'll go to the vet now."
"Very well, Ms. Hartley, I'll prepare. Please wait a moment."
On the way, Tabitha didn't mind the puppy's dirt at all, holding it tightly in her arms with a gentle smile on her lips. She touched the puppy over and over again.
Wilmot softly said, "Ms. Hartley, I once heard a saying. Those who leave in this world will eventually meet again."