Denise’s hands were steady as she carefully wrapped another layer of gauze around Uno’s arm. Her touch was gentle, her expression focused. The gauze covered the fresh wounds, creating a protective barrier. As she worked, she glanced up at Uno, who was watching her with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper — vulnerability.
“There,” she murmured softly, tying off the end of the bandage. “This should help. You’ll need to rest it and keep it clean. We can change the bandages again in the morning.”
Uno nodded, his voice low and shaky. “Thank you,” he whispered, his gaze drifting to the floor. “I… I’m not used to someone else doing this for me…”
Denise frowned slightly, concern etching her features. “What do you mean?” she asked gently, sensing there was more to his words.
He hesitated, swallowing hard. “When I was little,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “my parents… they’d get angry, and… sometimes they’d throw things. Sharp things. I’d get hurt, but… I’d always be the one to bandage myself. I had to learn… I had to take care of myself because no one else would.”
Denise’s heart ached hearing this. She could see the pain in his eyes, the way he seemed to shrink into himself at the memory. She squeezed his hand tightly, willing him to feel her presence, to know that he wasn’t alone anymore. “Oh, Uno… I’m so sorry,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “You didn’t deserve that… no child does.”
He looked up at her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I guess… I just got used to it,” he admitted quietly. “Used to taking care of my own wounds. It became… normal.”
Denise shook her head, her grip tightening on his hand. “That’s not normal, Uno,” she said firmly. “You were a child… you shouldn’t have had to endure that. No one should. But you’re not alone anymore. I’m here, and I’ll always help you… you don’t have to do this by yourself.”
Uno’s expression softened, his lips curling into a faint, almost hesitant smile. “Thank you,” he whispered again, his voice filled with gratitude and something more — relief. “I… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Before Denise could respond, Thomas let out a soft bark, catching their attention. The little pug sat at Uno’s feet, his tail wagging eagerly, his bright eyes focused on Uno. He pawed at Uno’s leg, letting out another insistent bark.
Uno blinked, surprised. “Thomas?” he said, looking down at his loyal companion. “What is it, boy?”
Thomas barked again, more emphatically this time, his little body bouncing with excitement. Denise watched the pug carefully, noticing how his gaze kept flicking between Uno and a small closet across the room. She smiled softly, understanding dawning on her.
“I think he wants to cheer you up,” Denise said, her eyes brightening as she looked at Thomas. “He knows you’re upset… and I think he has an idea.”
Uno frowned, confused. “An idea?” he asked, glancing from Denise to Thomas. “What do you mean?”
Denise stood up, reaching down to pat Thomas on the head. “Come on, boy,” she said gently. “Show me what you want to do.”
Thomas let out a happy yip and trotted over to the small closet in the corner of the room, his tail wagging furiously. Denise followed, opening the closet door to reveal a tiny suit hanging inside — a perfectly tailored miniature version of the suits Uno often wore, complete with a small tie.
Denise laughed softly, turning to look at Uno with a grin. “I think Thomas wants to dress up for you,” she said, amusement and affection in her voice. “He knows how much you love your suits… and he wants to make you smile.”
