Page 23 of All Your Firsts Without Me

“I was friends with your husband. We met at his funeral.”

A spark of recognition lights her eyes. “Oh, yes. I’m sorry, my brain is a little fuzzy these days. I remember you now.”

“No apologies. It’s understandable. May I?” I gesture towards the door of the kennel.

She nods once before dropping her eyes to the dog in her lap.

I open the door, then lower myself to the ground, sitting close but not too close to her. She glances up, smiling shyly.

“So, did you see Lucky here on the evening news like I did?” I ask, reaching over to give the dog a scratch behind her ears. She wags her tail but doesn’t leave April’s lap.

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “But you can have her. It’s okay. I just wanted to make sure she found a good home.”

“It looks to me like Lucky’s already picked her home. She seems pretty happy with you.”

April smiles again, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. It’s so beautiful it sends a thousand butterflies to take flight in my chest.

She lets her golden-brown hair fall in front of her face, shielding herself from me. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never had a pet before. I’m not sure I would be the best person for her.”

“Do you think you could love her?”

The dog yawns. She leans down and kisses the top of her head. “I think I already do,” she whispers against Lucky’s fur.

“Well, I think that is the biggest part. After that, you just need to make sure she is safe, fed, and watered. I’m sure you can handle it.”

“I think I need a little more time to think about it.” She brushes her hair over her shoulder, looking me in the eye for the first time. It takes my breath away. I could get lost in her eyes. They are stunning. It’s like looking at the sun. They are golden just like her hair. They’re the most unique shade I’ve ever seen.

“The sign on the door says they don’t close for another few hours.” I smile.

“Yeah.” She laughs sadly. “I’ve never been good at making decisions.

I nod. We sit quietly for a few minutes, both of us petting Lucky. Our hands dance around each other but don’t touch. “So, how are you?” I decide to ask.

She doesn’t look at me, but she surprises me by answering honestly. Most people give a generic response. We are trained from a young age to do that. But she is different. She’s as unique as her eyes.

“I think I’m slowly dying of a broken heart.” Her hand stills on Lucky’s back.

“Maybe Lucky can help with that.” I run my hand over the dog’s head and slowly inch my way to her hand, stopping when it reaches hers. It’s a small touch but it sends sparks up my arm. I’m sure she doesn’t feel it, but I hope the touch of another human at least helps her. It helped me when I lost my parents.

“When I saw her last night, I thought about how she had been trapped here in a cage for the past year. It reminded me of…” her words trail off as she stares at our hands.

“Of you,” I finish for her.

“You’ve heard my story?” she asks, her eyes flicking up to mine.

I nod. “I read your book.”

Her eyebrow arches slightly. “Well then, I guess you know that I sort of had a pet.” She laughs sadly, moving her hand away from mine to give Lucky a scratch under her chin.

“Ah, yes, what was his name... Mickey?” I tease.

She giggles, and I memorize every single thing about it. I’m not missing the opportunity to fill myself up with everything my muse offers. “Minnie,” she corrects, knowing full well I knew the correct name for the little mouse that used to crawl through a crack in the door of the room she was locked in. She would toss him bits of her food. When he stopped coming to visit her, she wrote that was the moment she felt she was starting to lose herself.

“If you think that’s crazy. I recently had a pet squirrel.”

I tip my head. “And?”

“And what?”

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