Page 76 of The Secrets We Built Together

"He's very judgmental," I admitted, warming to the topic now that I wasn't being ridiculed. "He gives me these looks when I'm being particularly self-destructive. And he loves the smell of coffee."

"Of course he does," Reece nodded, like this was the most normal conversation in the world.

"I can't believe you never told me about Toby," Delaney said, looking almost hurt.

"It's not exactly something you bring up in casual conversation," I pointed out. "'Hey, by the way, I have an imaginary dog that I talk to when I'm alone.' That's the kind of thing that gets you concerned glances and pamphlets about therapy."

"Does Xander know?" Emma asked with a sly grin.

The memory of accidentally mentioning Toby to him flashed through my mind, the way his lips had twitched with suppressed laughter before he politely pretended not to notice my slip.

"He might have overheard me talking to Toby once or twice," I admitted. "He was remarkably cool about it."

"Because he's in loooove," Reece sang, finishing off her drink.

I kicked her under the table, but I couldn't stop the smile spreading across my face. It felt good, this easy camaraderie, the ability to share something so silly and private without fear of judgment.

"I think it's cute," Emma decided. "Everyone needs someone to talk to, even if that someone is an imaginary Yorkie in a bicycle basket."

"I sketch him sometimes," I confessed, surprising myself with the admission. "In my art journal. He looks different depending on my mood—sometimes scruffy and wild, other times perfectly groomed with a little bow."

"To Toby," Delaney raised her glass in a toast, eyes twinkling with mischief. "The best imaginary dog in Willowbrook."

"To Toby," the others echoed, and I clinked my glass with theirs, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

"You guys are the worst," I said, but the warmth in my chest told a different story.

"You love us," Delaney said confidently.

And I did. Just like I loved the little family waiting for me back at the cottage. The thought sobered me, and I checked the time again.

"I really should get back," I said, gathering my things. "It's past Amelia's bedtime."

"And you miss them," Reece added knowingly.

I didn't even try to deny it. "Is that pathetic? That I can't even enjoy one night out without wanting to rush home?"

"It's not pathetic," Delaney assured me, squeezing my shoulder. "It's real."

Real. The word echoed in my head as we settled the bill and made our way outside. The night air was cool against my flushed skin, clearing some of the alcohol-induced fog from my mind.

"I had fun," I told the women as we prepared to part ways. "Thanks for dragging me out."

"Anytime," Emma said warmly. "We should do this regularly."

"Agreed," Reece nodded. "Girls' night once a month, minimum."

"I'll hold you to that," I promised, surprised to find I meant it.

Delaney offered to drive me home, and I gratefully accepted. As we pulled up in front of the cottage, I saw the soft glow of a lamp through the window. Xander was still up, waiting for me.

The thought made my heart do a little flip in my chest.

"Go on," Delaney nudged me. "Go home to your family."

Family. The word felt right in a way I hadn't expected. I leaned over and gave her a quick hug. "Thanks for everything tonight."

"Anytime," she echoed Emma’s words. "And Blake? Tell him how you feel again. Life's too short for maybes."

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