She remembered Rex running through the park on the day she first met Mike. He had always been her anchor, and now he was failing. The decision was instantaneous. “We’re going to the emergency vet,” she stated firmly. Her mother gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.
“The wedding can wait. This can’t,” Susan added, gathering up her skirts and preparing to stand.
She turned to Mike, her voice steady but resolute. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t leave him like this.” Mike didn’t hesitate for a second. “You don’t have to apologize, Susan. Rex is family. His health comes first,” he said, reaching out to help her up.
The stunned guests watched in silence as Susan, still in her designer wedding dress, guided a weakening Rex toward the car.
Mike followed right behind them, already on his phone looking up the nearest 24-hour clinic, while her father went to explain the situation to the minister. As the car pulled away, Susan’s entire world was focused on the dog who had given her thirteen years of unconditional love. Rex leaned his head against her, his breathing still shallow, trusting her completely. They sped through the suburban streets toward the vet.
In the backseat, Susan held Rex’s heavy head in her lap. Her dress was wrinkled and stained, but she didn’t care. Every labored breath Rex took felt like a countdown. Mike kept checking the rearview mirror, his jaw set tight. “We’re almost there, hang on,” he encouraged.
Though his knuckles were white on the steering wheel, he stayed calm for her. Susan wiped away a stray tear, stroking Rex’s ears. “I should have noticed sooner,” she whispered guiltily.
“He’s been acting a little off all week. I just thought it was the house being full of people and the pre-wedding stress.” Mike’s voice was gentle but firm: “You couldn’t have known, Susan. Don’t do that to yourself.”
“The only thing that matters is that you’re with him now.” The clinic came into view, its blue sign glowing under the streetlights. Dr. Stevens, who had seen Rex for years, was already alerted and met them at the door.
He helped them get Rex inside. Susan didn’t let go of his collar, her white train trailing across the linoleum floor. The clinic smelled of antiseptic and floor wax, a stark contrast to the floral scent of the wedding they had just left…
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