**Diary Entry**
I clutched the phone with trembling fingers. “Lucy, I think Ive hit a cat,” I choked out.
“And?” she replied, her voice steady.
“And? What do you mean, and? What should I do?”
“At least get out of the car and check if its still alive.”
I swallowed hard. The driveway was empty, the evening air thick with the metallic tang of fear. Slowly, I opened the door, leaned forward without stepping out, and peered under the car. There it wasalive. A small, trembling grey lump, its eyes wide open.
“Its alive, Lucy. What now?”
“What do you mean, what now? Take it to the vet. Youre heading that way anyway. Just hurry!”
Carefully, I lifted the catit didnt resist, just lay there, breathing unevenly. I placed it on the back seat inside an old shoebox and set off.
The clinic was usually half an hour away. But not that day. That day, thirty minutes stretched into eternity.
Because in the boot of the car, there was already a dogan old mixed breed, hit by a train. My holiday neighbours had asked me to take it to be “put down humanely.” A stray, unwanted, but pitied. Id agreed without thinking.
And now this cat.
I drove like a madman, one thought pounding in my skull: “What kind of day is this? What kind of life is this?”
At the clinic, miraculously, there was no queue. I rushed in clutching the shoebox like a man delivering his wife to the maternity ward. The vet took one look and whisked it away.
“Whats wrong with it? Will it be alright?” I hovered outside the door.
“Well do an X-ray,” the nurse said. “Nothing seems too serious, but we need to be sure.”
Fifteen minutes. An eternity. The clock mocked me, frozen in place. I paced, staring at posters of British Shorthairs and Maine Coons, while guilt gnawed at me.
I shouldve seen it. Shouldnt have been driving so fast. One second later, one different thoughtand none of this wouldve happened. But there I stood, begging silently: “Just let it live. Let me fix this.”
When the vet returned, she said, “It needs surgery.”
Then I rememberedthe dog was still in the car.
I rushed back. Silence. No whimpers, no movement. I pressed the boot release, and it creaked open.
Two terrified eyes stared up at me from the darkness. It was alive.
“Hey,” I whispered. “Sorry well sort you out soon.”
Back at the clinic, I grabbed the veta stern, no-nonsense woman.
“Theres another one. A dog in the boot. Hit by a train, its hind legs”
“They called ahead,” she cut in. “Said it had no chance.”
I faltered. She didnt flinch, just snatched a coat and followed me.
When we opened the boot, she glanced at the dog, then at me. Her gaze cut through me like an X-ray.
“Are you mad? Who said it had to be put down? Its legs wont heal, but it can live. Weve handled worse. Bring it in.”
I nodded. No arguments. If she said it would live, that was enough.
That evening, I burst through the door. Lucy turned from the stove, startled.
“Oliver? Whats wrong?”
Without a word, I went to the old book where I kept my savings. A dream. A motorbike. None of it mattered now.
“Oliver?!”
“Theyre going to live!” I shouted. “Both of them!”
“Who? Youve lost it!”
“Ill explain later.”
We kept them. The cat became Molly. The dog, Rex. We survived it allIV drips, sleepless nights, rehab.
Lucy just said, “If theyre with us now, well manage.”
And she did. She fed Molly by hand, tucked Rex in. We cried when Molly took her first steps. Laughed when Rex raced across the yard in a wheelchair.
Five years passed. They werent pets. They were family.
Tonight, when I got home, the smell of baking greeted me. Lucy hugged me from behind, tight. And then she trembled.
“Whats wrong?” I turned.
“Were going to grow” she whispered, her hand resting on her stomach.
At first, I didnt understand. ThenI did.
Im forty. Shes thirty-seven. We tried for so long. Almost gave up. Almost. But once, a woman told us, “Youll have three children. Two from nature. One from God. A reward for kindness. Patience. The road will be hard, but the light is coming.”
Molly lay curled on the windowsill beside a stuffed rabbit. Old Rex hobbled over, pressed against my leg, and sighed.
Back then, I didnt believe it. NowI do.
Because once, we said “yes” to life. And life said “yes” back.
