Half a Wish
The night was crystal clear, and the stars glittered in all their splendor. The moon had not yet risen. The air was cool, almost cold, the way it gets in early spring after the snow has melted from all but the higher mountains, but he ignored it and the breeze tugging at his silver hair and instead, looked up and saw the Milky Way, like a white river running across the heavens.
A shooting star crossed the sky, and he thought of another night, which now seemed so long ago, and he sighed at his foolishness.
Suddenly, he heard soft footsteps walking up behind him, one white, triangular ear tracking the sound. Warm arms wrapped around him, and a soft cheek pressed against his shoulder.
“I was wondering where you were,” Kagome said, her voice soft, masking a note of sadness.
He turned around then, and looked at the gray eyes looking back at him. Even in the starlight, he could see they were a little puffy. It hurt, knowing why.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her gently, being careful of her pregnancy-swollen middle.
Kagome reached up, put a finger to his lips. “No, you didn’t do anything,” she said. “Lately, I . . . I just get so –”
He kissed her gently, softly. She rested her head against his shoulder.
“I saw a shooting star,” he said after a moment. His hand trailed down the back of her hair.
“Did you make a wish?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “I wished for you to smile again, and for the baby to be born all right.” He kissed the top of her head.
She looked up at him, a gentle smile breaking across her face. “Well, you’ve got the first part of your wish,” she said, reaching up her hand and cupping his cheek.
“Must mean I get the whole thing,” he replied. “Come on, let’s get you inside. It’s getting cold out here.”
She nodded, and taking his arm, they walked back into the house.