‘How’s she doing?’ Alex lowered his voice to a whisper and crept into the treatment room, almost fearful of disturbing Beth as she was so completely focused on the collie. But he’d waited and waited and now he was worried the old dog had passed on and she was in here grieving and dealing with it all on her own. But no, both vet and patient were holding on. ‘I’ve brought you a cup of tea, Beth. Thought you might need one.’

      As always, the sight of her made his heart stutter. Her long honey-coloured hair had fallen over her face as she titrated the IV drip attached to Meg’s paw, but he remembered every detail of her pretty features; the dark brown eyes that were warm to everyone, but him. With good cause, he knew. The perfect nose and mouth that had a generous smile...mostly. Not tonight, obviously.

      Yes, this was difficult. He hadn’t wanted to bring Spike here, but he’d run out of options. And he’d hoped Beth had had the day off. No such luck.

      It had been hard enough for the few weeks she’d filled in as the general practice receptionist when their regular one had suddenly taken ill, but he’d always managed to skirt past her and had tried to avoid any lengthy conversations about anything other than work. He’d breathed a sigh of relief when she’d left to take up a vet position here because time and distance, it appeared, didn’t make you forget. Strange, how the body instinctively remembered.

      She looked tired, but as beautiful as ever. Capable and professional and forthright, and still angry with him. Beth had always worn her heart on her sleeve and he knew he’d stamped all over it, so had no claim on her time or generosity. But for the zillionth time in his life he wondered whether he’d actually done the right thing all those years ago.

      Yes. He had. He’d had to set her free rather than lock her to him and an uncertain, potentially very dark and bleak future. And now? Even though things had gone a lot better than either he or the specialists had hoped, he still couldn’t give her what she wanted or deserved. But it didn’t hurt any less to have lost her. Never mind aching for the body he knew that fitted so well against his, the mouth that was made for his kisses. He fought against the rising regret. He’d done the right thing.

      Forcing himself to not look at her, he focused on her patient. It was easier that way, because looking at Beth made his heart hurt. And sing. And beat hard and fast to her rhythm. Life had definitely been easier without her around, but he didn’t want to think about not seeing her when she decided it was time to move on.

      He didn’t know anything about dog care but Meg’s breathing seemed less laboured than before. She appeared calmer and less stressed. But that could have been his imagination.

      Beth straightened and drew her gaze from the dog. Her eyes were soft and kind almost as if, for a moment, she’d forgotten to be angry with him. She took the cup he was holding out and had a sip. ‘Lovely, thank you. I’m parched actually.’

      ‘I wasn’t sure if you still took it white, no sugar.’

      ‘Yes. Oh.’ Beth blinked and just like that she slipped back into the woman she’d grown into whenever she was around him: guarded, professional, distanced. She swallowed and put the cup down on the counter.

      Damn. He shouldn’t have alluded to the past. ‘How’s Meg?’

      Beth breathed out and he could see she was shutting him out. The warmth in her eyes slowly seeped away, her back straightened and she turned away from him. ‘She’s holding her own. Just. She’s had a hell of a ride. But I’ve run the tests: full blood count, biochemical analysis and urinalysis. Done an ultrasound of her abdomen and then an endoscopy and it looks as if she’s got gastrointestinal bleeding and some liver damage.’ Her voice was measured and professional, as if she were giving a report to someone she didn’t know. ‘She’s been in a few times recently, with the odd cut or weird symptom that led to nothing, and has no other significant morbidity, so I’m thinking she’s eaten something. I can’t be sure, but with the damage to the gut it’s classic signs of ibuprofen poisoning. And if that’s the case we need to keep a very close eye on her over the next few days.’

      ‘Poor Dennis. It would be terrible if he lost Meg so soon after Nancy.’ As if the guy hadn’t been through enough already, having nursed his wife through cancer. ‘He’s not really coping, is he?’

      ‘No, he isn’t and it’s so sad.’ Beth gave a sharp shake of her head. ‘I know grief eats away at you and sometimes makes you distracted, so I need to have a chat with him about whether he may have left any tablets lying around that Meg could have got into. People don’t realise how dangerous some medications humans take are for pets.’

      ‘I’m his GP. From memory, he isn’t on ibuprofen but I’ll double-check at work tomorrow. It’s easily bought from most shops, so he might have some regardless. I haven’t seen much of him recently, but he’s clearly lost a bit of weight and he looks a bit dishevelled compared to when Nancy was alive. He always made an effort for her.’ He wondered how it was to have a love that lasted decades. Then stopped himself from going down that track because it wasn’t going to happen to him. ‘Maybe I could be there when you have that chat. Give him a bit of support, you know?’

      Beth raised her eyes and looked at him. He could see she was thinking hard about this. Was that because she didn’t want to spend any longer than necessary in his company? Were things so bad between them that they couldn’t even do a joint professional