Until my last breath

14

July 2022
          United Kingdom, London.

I walk quietly through the paddock, listening as Luna's gentle voice fills the stillness of the morning air. Her words wrap around me, each sentence sinking like a weight.

"She hasn't been eating or drinking, Rita. She doesn't even interact with anyone or anything." Luna's voice trembles with concern, and I can feel the depth of her worry as she continues. "We've tried everything, but it's like... she's given up."

My eyes sting as I glance toward the paddock. Daisy's stall comes into view, just the way Mom left it, adorned with fresh flowers, only now they're wilting, brittle in the morning light. The bucket of water beside the door is filled to the brim, untouched.

Luna lays a hand on my arm as we near the stall, her voice soft but firm. "Be careful, Rita. She's been... unpredictable."

I nod, but I'm already pulling away, my eyes fixed on the stall door. "Don't worry."

I step inside, moving quietly, slowly. And when I see her—my heart cracks.

Daisy stands in the corner, her head low, her body frail and shrunken. Her coat, once rich and glossy, is matted and dull, tinged with mud, and her legs bear marks from pacing, or maybe just from neglect. She's small, almost shrunken, nothing like the strong, proud horse who once held the world's attention. The light that always seemed to surround her is gone, leaving only a shell of the horse I remember.

For a second, I can't breathe. This is the horse who raced beside my mother, who won countless titles, championships—this was my mother's pride and joy, her second child. And now, without her, Daisy looks just as lost as I feel.

"Daisy," I whisper, my voice breaking under the weight of everything unsaid.

Her ears twitch, and she lifts her head, letting out a loud, sorrowful neigh. I don't move, waiting, watching, as she takes her time studying me. Slowly, she begins to approach, each step hesitant, as if afraid I might disappear. And when she finally reaches me, I wrap my arms around her neck, pulling her close.

I bury my face in her mane, breathing in the faint scent of hay and dust, and I feel the memories flood back—every moment spent in this barn, every gentle pat from Mom's hand, every lesson she taught me about horses and life. The smell, the warmth, everything about her pulls me back to all the moments Mom shared with her, shared with me.

"I'm so sorry, Daisy," I murmur, stroking the white patch between her ears, my fingers tracing the familiar spot. "I should've come sooner. I missed you so much, but I couldn't—I wasn't... I just wasn't ready."

She leans into me, the weight of her head heavy in my arms. And for a moment, it feels like Mom's here too, just as heartbroken, just as lost. "Mom's gone, Daisy," I whisper, my voice trembling as tears spill over. "But you and me, we still have each other. And she wouldn't want us like this... falling apart. We're all that's left of her, Daisy, and we have to keep going. For her."

I close my eyes, resting my forehead against hers, letting the memories settle around us. The scent of her mane, the warmth of her breath, everything brings a comfort I didn't know I needed, and I cling to her, feeling my own pain mirrored in her stillness.

After a while, I pull away, wiping my eyes and managing a faint smile. "How about a walk by the lake?" I murmur, brushing her tangled mane from her eyes. She stares back at me, and in that look, I feel a flicker of life—a spark that I've been desperate to see.

I reach for her halter, fastening it gently. "Come on, D. Let's go see the water. I brought you an apple too, your favorite."

Leading her out of the barn, we make our way toward the small lake at the edge of the field. The sun's sinking, casting long shadows across the grass, the world bathed in a warm, golden light that Mom would've loved. Daisy walks slowly beside me, her steps still heavy but filled with a little more purpose.

When we reach the lake, I dig into my bag and pull out a bright red apple, holding it out to her. "Here you go, Daisy," I say, my voice soft, pleading.

She sniffs at it, then turns her head away, uninterested. My heart sinks, but I swallow back the ache rising in my chest.

"Come on, Daisy, please. Just a bite?" I plead, brushing her mane back from her eyes, hoping, begging her to remember. "Mom wouldn't want this, you know. She'd hate seeing you like this. She's still with us, Daisy, I promise. So please, just... just try."

I hold the apple out again, my hand steady, my eyes locked on hers. She hesitates, her gaze drifting between me and the apple, and finally—finally—she leans forward, nibbling at the fruit. Relief floods over me, and I let out a shaky laugh, wrapping my arms around her neck.

"Oh, Daisy, you don't know how proud I am of you," I whisper, holding her tight, feeling a weight lift from my chest. "We're going to be okay, you and me. We're going to be okay."

An hour later, we make our way back to the barn. I feel lighter somehow, like maybe I've finally found a piece of myself again.

As I give her one last pat, I bring the bucket of water to her stall, watching as she dips her muzzle in, drinking deeply. For the first time in months, there's hope in her movements, a sign that maybe we're both ready to start healing.

Luna's waiting outside, her eyes filled with quiet curiosity. "So, Rita... what are we going to do with her?"

I take a deep breath, glancing back at Daisy. "I've been talking to a few barns in Barcelona. One in particular—it's beautiful, with big fields and space for her to run. I think... I think I'm going to bring her there."

Luna's face falls slightly, sadness flickering across her expression. "So she'll leave? She's been here her whole life, Rita. She'll be missed."

I swallow, feeling the weight of the decision settle over me. "I know, Luna. But... I need her near me. I can't come to London every time I want to see her."

She nods, pressing her lips together in understanding. "It makes sense. It's just... it's hard to say goodbye to her. She's been a part of us all."

"I know," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. "But it's what I have to do. I'll send you all the details, and I'll make sure she's settled. I'll be moving her in the next few weeks."

Luna gives me a small, sad smile. "Alright, Rita. And... congratulations on your last win. Your mother would be so proud. I'd say good luck in Monaco next week but i don't think you need it."

The words hit me, soft but steady, and I feel a new resolve build within me. "Thank you, Luna. For everything."

I give her one last wave and climb into the car, casting a final look back at Daisy's stall as we drive away. She's still there, standing in the doorway, watching me with quiet, knowing eyes.

And somehow, I know that we're going to be alright.