My Name is Ranel [Short Story] ✅

Part 5

A/N

4.5K words. Roller coaster up ahead. (Ignore any errors, because I literally finished this around 1:30AM)

Point Zero - still in Character as Keane - has sent me multiples of e-mails for the past month, asking how I'm holding up. I've been telling her that all is well, that I haven't lost my marbles ever since Colton Squire stayed with me for the first week. She keeps asking about Colton, and I keep telling her that he's my old friend - not that she doesn't know it already. But I keep having this sinking feeling in my stomach that what I said wasn't enough, what I've been telling myself is not what I want to hear.

I rarely see Colton around nowadays, seeing as he is almost constantly busy. On some days, I would try to recall my past when I was a soldier; was I as busy as him? But I never got the solution - not yet anyway. I would dream, too, and every time I wake up, I can't wrap up whether the dreams were just dreams or memories. I always hope for the latter. Even so, I don't always remember them. Waking up simply erases them.

I want to talk to Colton about my dreams, ask him whether he remembers them - which sounds relatively inane. The matter at the moment is that he isn't always around, and when he is, he is always either working on some documents or trying to rest. I entirely get it. I don't think it is that simple to be a captain, especially when you're residing alone in a lodge. On rare occasions, I would ponder over the fact as to why he hasn't gotten himself a wife - a girlfriend, at least - for he is quite fetching. I've been trying my best to keep him company; I would wander outside and play with the dog all morning just to wait for him to return.

Which is exactly what I'm doing at the moment, sitting with my legs crossed on the ground under a tree and playing toss using a snapped twig (I snapped it clean off the branch of a yew tree, really) with the dog. The White German Shepherd has become my best friend for a while now, always keeping me company when there is nobody to talk to. Dogs don't exactly talk, and they don't confuse you with their silence. I wish I were a dog.

That is when I hear his familiar voice behind me, "You like animals."

I glance over my shoulder to find Colton Squire standing there, his military jacket draped over one shoulder - as usual. "Hmm?"

"You, Ranel," he says, taking a step towards me. "You like - hell, you love animals. That's ... one of the facts that I know about you."

He whistles, and the dog scurries in his direction, barking at him, tongue lolling out of her mouth. She leans into Colton's open palm as he scratches the area between her ears. "Your dog?" I'm quite surprised that I hadn't thought of that - I had been quite contented with the thought that she doesn't belong to anyone.

"My bitch,"

I smile.

"I was tempted to call her 'Steve'," says Colton, kneeling down at the dog.

I fight back a laugh. "Why?"

"Because I named a female bird 'Steve' once," he tells me. I laugh. Colton meets my gaze and smiles at me. It's not a joyous smile. In fact, it makes him look more wretched - that kind of sad smile that someone puts when recalling a past event.

And I remember the letter. "Steve," I say the name, tasting the memory - failingly. "How did Steve end up in your life again?"

"You tell me," he says, then pauses; the words don't seem right to either of us. So he continues, "You practically brought her in, you towering benevolent nit."