Page 55 of The Billionaire's Pawfect Match

My heart drops into my stomach, and I consider not answering. I don’t have to tell her Baxter is missing, but I don’t trust my acting abilities. She’ll probably be able to tell just from the sound of my voice that something is up.

My need to hear her voice, to lose myself in its soothing qualities, finally wins out, though, and I answer.

“Hey,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “What’s up?”

“Isaac,” Emily’s voice is tense, a thread pulled too taut. Right away I know something is wrong.

“What is it?” I suck in a sharp breath.

“It’s Baxter. Someone brought him into the shelter. He was found running around downtown.”

Relief crashes into me, so powerful it almost brings me to my knees right there on the bustling street corner. But then I catch the strain behind her words, and the relief curdles into shame.

“Thank God,” I breathe, leaning against a lamppost to steady myself. “I’m so sorry, Em. He got out of my office somehow, and?—”

“Out of your office?” Her shock is palpable, even through the phone.

“Yeah,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. “He slipped out when Carol and I weren’t there, and then a door was propped open downstairs and… I’ve been looking for him everywhere.”

“Isaac,” she exhales, and I can almost see her shaking her head, her brow furrowed. “How did this…”

“I’ll be at the shelter as fast as I can.” I start moving again, purpose renewing my tired legs. “I’m going to make this right.”

“Okay,” she says, but her voice is distant, like she’s already pulling away.

“Em, please,” I plead, my heart hammering against my rib cage. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

There’s a pause, long enough for me to hear the roar of the city around me, a reminder of how alone I feel in this moment.

“I know,” she finally replies. “Just… get here soon, okay? He’s freaking out. The shelter is a really stressful place.”

“Of course,” I say and end the call, my grip on the phone so tight it could snap.

As I weave through the crowds, the reflections in the shop windows show a man frayed at the edges, holding himselftogether with sheer will. I think about Emily, her love for Baxter, her belief in me — the belief I’m scared I’m not worthy of anymore.

Baxter was supposed to be my responsibility, a symbol that I could care for something other than work, that I could grow and become the kind of man my father wanted me to be. Yet here I am, scrambling to fix a mistake that should never have happened.

“Almost there, buddy,” I say to the empty air, picturing Baxter’s brown eyes and wagging tail. The image fuels me, pushes me past the fatigue and the ache of my conscience. I have to be the man Emily believes I can be, the man I promised her I’d try to be.

Back at work, I go straight to my car, calling Carol as I get into it and giving her an update.

“Thank goodness he’s safe,” she breathes.

“Yeah,” I murmur through tight teeth. I’m also relieved that Baxter is okay, but I’m not looking forward to standing as a true loser in front of the woman I’m crazy about.

Every red light is a test of patience, every crosswalk crowded with people a barrier to overcome. But I can’t stop now, won’t stop until I’ve made things right.

“Sorry” has become a useless word. It won’t change what happened, won’t undo the knot in my stomach or the worry I heard in Emily’s voice. Only action can do so, only getting to Baxter and proving that this isn’t who I am.

Finally, the shelter comes into view, and I grab the first parking spot I see then jog into the building.

“Emily,” I call out, stepping into the world where her passion lives, where she heals and loves unconditionally. “I’m here.”

I look around, expecting to see her holding Baxter, expecting to see the life we’ve been building together still standing despite my missteps. But the lobby is empty, not even a person behind the front desk.

“Isaac,” her voice comes from behind, and I turn to see her walking toward me, Baxter on a leash next to her. It’s a scene that holds both relief and confrontation — a moment suspended between what was and what could be.

“Hi,” I manage to say, my heart lodged in my throat.

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