Dogs get cancer too

She called and asked if she could ask me a big favor. I paused a moment before I answered.

It’s kind of hard to make the argument that you’re busy when you’re sitting in your living room at 7:15 in the evening watching Extra; but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to try. And I was kind of busy, I was actively working on planning out a strategy on avoiding all of the things that I needed to get done.

“You can ask,” I said, stressing the word ask a little bit mostly because I was being an asshole. She then explained that she’s working on a deal to refinance her properties which would lower her loan commitments and give her cash in hand. The catch was that she needed her property portfolio by 9:30 the next morning but she told me that she had most of the components at the ready, that she just needed them bound into a nice package.

Having less money pour out her door is good for me because it increases the chances that I might actually get paid for the work I do and her getting a small pile of money to roll around in is good for me too because it means that there will be some money just lying about.

I told her that it was unfortunate that I wouldn’t be able to help her out. I told her that if she had called me earlier in the day then there may have been a chance that I might have been able to help but as things stood at the moment that I was unable to assist her.

She was quiet for a moment before she asked when it was that I stopped loving her. I told her that it was when I took a step back from our relationship and saw for what a fool that I was being played.

I was surprised by her laugh but my surprise was followed by anger when she said “Yeah, I’ve been fucking you over for years but you just kept on coming back for more.”

And that’s when I became a writer of bad fiction.