It was torture knowing that she was hurting him so terribly, and every second that she stared into his eyes she knew she could make it better if she would just take it back. But somehow, deep within, she found the strength and the courage to tell herself that it was better this way. Better that she made this decision early on, before their charade continued with a vow, and more pups. She would only have wronged him more if she had let it continue on with doubt in her heart. Still, the horror on his face, that might have been somewhat how she looked when she watched her son’s murder. She was relieved when he turned away from her.
She wished he hadn’t begged. She didn’t want to hear his promises of the future that she was now denying, because it still all sounded so sweet and tempting.
Her eyes pinched shut, squeezing moisture between the lids to form little dew droplets on her cheeks.
“This is… how it must be.” Her voice was barely stronger than a breathy whisper, and then the only noise was the hollow sound of her foot-paws on the wooden boards as she fled back to her cottage.
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