This is a novella that uses two different first person points of view. Each chapter will be clearly marked as to which character is narrating.

So far, Iris and Jameson meet and bond over coffee. Jameson's marriage is on the brink of divorce, and Iris is in the end stages heart disease.

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JAMESON

My late night call to Claire must have rattled her. First thing this morning, my phone is buzzing across the nightstand.

"Morning," I say, pulling myself up to rest on one elbow. "You're up early."

"Who advised you to get a lawyer? I know damn well it wasn't your idea."

"Doesn't matter who suggested it. I need to get on with my life."

"Dammit, Jameson, I need time. I'm trying to figure all this out."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Closing my eyes, I try to fight the urge to hang up. "You decided to leave, Claire. You won't answer my questions about why you need space. You are making all the calls here. I have given you space. I have given you time. Well, guess what. I'm done waiting for you to make decisions that will affect the rest of my life ... and Finny's life."

"This isn't you talking."

"This is me."

"You've never treated me with so much disrespect and cruelty before."

There are times when I can swallow my pride and apologize for the sake of keeping peace. Today is not the day. "Do you remember what you said when you read the story I had published?"

"No."

I take a breath, remembering the disappointment I had felt at her reaction. "You said it was silly. Not good, not even that children might enjoy it. Claire, you never even said you were proud of me."

"It was an eight paragraph story."

"It was my story, Claire. That should have been enough. I was excited and proud, at least, until you dismissed it."

She's quiet. There is no apology. Nothing but silence while she reloads. "You sold one story. You'll never be the next Stephen King. I'm sorry to be the one that has to burst your bubble, but it's true."

"Good news, Claire, you burst that bubble a long time ago. But, I'm Jameson Petry, guy who wrote about a flying chicken. That should have been good enough." I take a breath, trying to reel in my anger. "You don't need time to figure us out, you want time to figure out if you can do this on your own."

"Are you through?" Her voice is tight. It doesn't matter what I've said, she doesn't even bother to deny it.

"I guess so."

"So, I'll wait to hear from your lawyer then."

"Give Fin a kiss for me."

She disconnects without a word.

I hold the phone for a long time. Willing her to call me back, and willing myself not to call her. I had to sound cold. But I didn't feel it.

Every part of me hurts. Nothing but loss and pain run through my veins. I can't have what means the most to me. I want my family back. Even knowing what I know now, I would give anything to turn back the clock to when I thought everything was perfect.

The rest of my day I go through on autopilot. Working at the computer until my eyes burn. I would probably work through until midnight but Heston starts to whine at the door.

"Ready for a walk? That's a good idea, Hessy." I stretch to get the kinks out of my back and legs.

We walk around the neighborhood, then down into the town. The fresh air feels good. Makes me feel almost human again.

I look around, hoping to run into Iris, but there is no sign of her. Pity, I could have really used a coffee right now. I could have used the advice from someone who has been through hell and back. Never in a million years would I have thought a random stranger would have been my life line, the one adult person who keeps me afloat.

I sit under the shade of a tree at the end of the block. I've lost everything. I wait for tears. Nothing happens. Just the dull ache that eats at me from the inside. No tears come. The slow realization of the fact you can't lose what was never yours in the first place.

I pull out my phone and call Iris. If I can't see her, I can at least hear her voice.

"Hello?"

"It's me, Jameson, just calling to check on you."

"Oh, you sweet boy, I'm fine. Just trying to get my ducks in a row. How are things with you?"

"Good," I say, forcing a smile into my voice. "I was wondering if you could make time for coffee soon."

"Of course. It's one of the few highlights of my week."

She sounds good. I can't tell her about my call to Claire. There is nothing she can do. If she asks when we have coffee, I'll tell her. Maybe by then, it will be easier. Maybe she'll know what to say to make this ache go away.

I hang up and stroke Heston's head. "You knew, didn't you? You knew she was the one."

He licks my hand, then stands, ready to go home.

Iris was right about it when she said Irish wolfhounds were smart.