"I can't see Roger anywhere. . . "
Evan was silent as he followed on behind me.
"Well. . . I suppose he is a grey tabby, so that doesn't make searching for him in the middle of the night any easier. . . "
I could still feel Evan's presence, but that didn't stop me from turning around to face him. I squinted at the patch of darkness where he should have been, not realising he was so far back.
I didn't make any attempt to hurry him up; but then again, I was worried about Roger. So worried, in fact, that I'd decided go out and search for him in the pitch black.
We got him right before we moved to this country house, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, but in fact not too far away from the city where we could buy groceries and go to the doctor's.
I felt somewhat ashamed. We'd only had him for the last few days, and although I'd promised myself I would keep an eye on him, I'd still managed to lose him.
For the first time I regretted not listening to Evan and getting a dog instead. "Dogs don't have the need to be outside for most of the day, unlike cats, who can get lost very easily," he'd argued, but I didn't listen. And here we were - looking for our lost kitten.
I heard heavy footsteps and heavy panting. Twigs cracking. Leaves rustling. And then something fell.
I reached out to catch my partner as he collapsed, and I lay him on the ground.
I could see his face a little clearer this time.
He moaned quietly, and his face twisted in pain.
He spoke, his voice faint and barely audible.
"Damian," he whispered. "I think my water just broke. . . "
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