Page 84 of Forever To Me

His ears twitch at my voice, and he lets out a long and soft, familiar whine, the same one he always did when he wanted to be held closer.

Like he missed me, too.

Tears slip down my cheeks as he licks my face, and I laugh through the sob, overwhelmed, unable to believe this is real.

I pull back just enough to look up at Walker, my voice shaky.

“Walker,” I breathe, still kneeling on the ground, my hands tangled in Rip’s fur. “How did you know to get my dog?”

He’s standing there, completely still, like he’s afraid to move,afraid to break whatever’s happening. His usual gruff, unreadable mask is gone. He looks like he’s watching something he didn’t know he needed to see.

Like this moment, the way I’m clutching Rip, the way I’m crying and laughing all at once is hitting him somewhere deep. Like maybe he didn’t expect this to matter so much. But it does.

His mouth parts slightly, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know what. His jaw clenches, his throat bobs with a hard swallow, his fingers flex where they hang at his sides.

And his eyes—God, his eyes.

There’s something soft in them. Something careful. Something I don’t think he means for me to see. Then he says softly, “Cami told me. He belongs with you. I reached out to a few friends to make it happen.”

My body reacts before my brain does, and before I can register what I’m doing, I wrap my arms around him in a hug, pulling him in, and burying my face in his neck. “Thank you, Walker.”

He hugs me back and pats my back, rubbing circles with his hand.

Suddenly, I realize that the bar is silent around us. Or maybe it just feels that way because my heart pounds in my ears, my breath uneven as I sink back to my knees, clutching Rip like he’s my lifeline.

Rip wiggles and whines, pressing his whole body into me like he can’t quite believe I’m real.

I know the feeling. I bury my face in his fur, letting the relief crash over me one more time. And when I finally look up, I realize I’m not the only one watching. People have stopped mid-drink, mid-conversation, their eyes locked on me and Rip and… Walker.

The whole damn bar sits watching this unfold because small towns don’t miss a thing.

They see how my shoulders shake and my hands grip Rip’s fur as if I’ll never let go.

They see Walker standing there, looking at me like he didn’t expect this to hit him the way it did.

And they see what I see—that Walker did this. He made this happen.

That somehow, some way, he brought my dog to me.

Cami is the first to speak. I didn’t even see her come in, so that tells you how wrapped up in the moment I am. She steps forward, crossing her arms, her lips twitching in a mix of amusement and something softer. “You really made this happen, Walker.”

Walker hears it but doesn’t say anything. His jaw tightens, his fingers flex at his sides, but he doesn’t deny it.

Doesn’t brush it off.

I look over at Cami and mouth the words, “Thank you.” I stand and pull her into a hug. “This means everything,” I tell her.

“It was a group effort.” Her voice is gentle, but there’s a knowing edge to it. Of course she was in on this. Cami is a fierce and loyal friend who would do anything for the people she loves.

And Walker? He just exhales sharply and looks away, like the weight of what he’s done is suddenly too much. Like maybe he didn’t expect it to feel this big.

But Cami? She just watches him, her smirk fading into something almost… proud. She doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t have to. Because everyone in this bar already knows.

Knows that Walker isn’t the kind of man who does things halfway.

Knows that if he did this—if he went out of his way to bring Rip home—then maybe, just maybe, it means something.

Maybe, just maybe…Imean something.

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