"But, he said forever..." she protested, but her feeble voice was already drifting away before she could finish the statement.

She gripped the phone silently. Her knuckles went dry and turned white. Tears welled in her reddening eyes but refused to fall. That bastard said forever. Doesn't that mean anything anymore? In a hot flash the phone soared across the room, shattered itself and the mirror it hurt.

"He said forever! He said forever!" She jumped up from the couch and stomped around like a child, screaming the phrase over and over. Her $200 hair style was shook into a mop. Items, particularly his gifts, were smashed against the new wallpaper. Bruises and cuts started to build on her arms and fists. He sheik living room had been dismantled in minutes.

Exhausted she laid in the center. Her head fell lazily to the side and her bloodshot orbs still held in the river of pain. They also held in the sight of two mournful brown ones, peeking around the corner. Those soulful eyes waited several moments, the padded with its tail tucked to curl up at her side.

His persistent child's mind beckoned her to pet him. Soothe him. And through it soothe herself. The exercise grounded her and the tears were released. She turned and gripped the black and white dog, her body wracked with spasms as she cried into him. "He said forever damn it! Why did he go and die? Why! That fucking liar!"

Forever loyal, the dog accepted the pain and never budged. Never yelped. Never left.