Chapter 7
T he late-afternoon sun warmed the sprawling off-leash park, a green pocket of calm tucked between busy city blocks—perfect for canine chaos and… human procrastination.
Will slipped through the gate with Fetch trotting proudly at his side, leash jangling.
He claimed an empty bench, unclipped the harness, and watched his retriever rocket across the grass like a furry missile.
Time to work… theoretically. From his canvas satchel, he produced a slim laptop, flipped it open, and stared at the taunting glow of an empty document.
“You got this, Will...” he muttered to himself, rolling his shoulders like a pitcher about to throw the game-winning fastball.
A deep breath, a brisk rub of his palms, and he began to tap.
“Once upon a time,” he said under his breath while typing.
Half a beat later, his fingers froze. He jabbed the backspace key hard enough to rattle the alphabet.
“Once upon a time? Seriously?” he groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face.
Across the park’s opposite entrance, Alex slipped Lady’s leash free and produced a bright yellow ball. Lady stared at it as though Alex had offered her a soggy sock instead of a toy.
“Oh, come on. I know this isn’t your favorite ball, but it’ll have to do. It’s all they had at the store,” Alex coaxed, pitching her voice to resume her role as ball-fetching sidekick.
Lady looked away with textbook canine disdain.
“You’re spoiled... It’s just a ball,” Alex complained.
Lady barked—one short, savage syllable that radiated the energy of a diva rejecting off-brand treats.
“Fine. I’ll pack an extra next time. For now, this has to do,” Alex conceded, hurling the ball downfield.
Lady did not budge.
“Are you serious? Fine. Just lie there. I’m sure some other dog will have fun with your ball,” Alex said, crossing her arms.
With theatrical resignation, Lady leapt up and bounded after the toy.
“That’s what I thought. This must be what having a toddler is like,” Alex muttered to herself as Lady reappeared—this time flanked by a nearly identical golden retriever carrying the yellow prize.
“Well, hello. Did you make a friend?” Alex asked, crouching to ruffle both sets of silky ears.
She hurled the ball again, and the gleeful duo tore off in a swirl of wagging tails. Alex laughed. “And just like that, my dog ditched me for her friends. Teenagers.”
Back on the bench, Will hadn’t typed another word when something thudded onto his keyboard. A spit-slick yellow ball rolled to a stop on the space bar.
“Did you take someone’s ball again?” Will scolded, eyeing Fetch—who now sat beside another golden retriever, tails swishing in mischievous unison.
“Will you look at that? Who’s your friend? You two could be twins,” he observed, snapping the laptop shut. Inspiration could wait.
“Fine. I’ll play. I’m not feeling very inspired to write, anyway,” Will decided, rising and tossing the ball from hand to hand.
“Did he take your ball?” he asked the new arrival.
Lady barked once—affirmative.
“Thought so. His manners need work,” Will admitted as Fetch offered a contrite grumble.
“You should be embarrassed, and so am I, for standing in the dog park and making conversation with dogs,” Will told them, but he lobbed the ball anyway. Two golden blurs chased it down, but this time they didn’t return.
“Nice. I just got ditched by dogs,” Will said, checking his watch. “Oh, man. I got to get going.”
On the far side of the park, Alex’s phone pinged. She glanced at the reminder and groaned.
“Dinner with annoying matchmaker sister,” she read aloud. “Oh, shoot. We need to go.”
She brought her hands to her mouth like a makeshift megaphone and called out, “Lady!” as she scanned the field for her runaway retriever.
Will did the same search-and-rescue shuffle on his side, weaving among the trees. “Fetch. Here, boy!”
A thick, leafy hedge ran straight through the middle of the park like some overgrown privacy wall, splitting the space into two mirrored halves.
On one side, Alex called for Lady as she wove between trees and benches.
On the other, Will wandered with his eyes scanning for Fetch.
They walked parallel paths—mere feet apart—separated only by a curtain of greenery.
Close enough to borrow sugar, but far enough to stay strangers.
Their voices floated faintly through the leaves, dulled and distorted, never quite reaching the other side.
They passed each other like ships in the world’s most absurd daytime fog, completely unaware.
Will spotted movement just ahead—Fetch trotting toward him like a guilty kid returning stolen goods. Will knelt with a knowing smirk as the dog dropped the familiar ball at his feet.
Nearby, Alex tugged Lady’s leash and guided her toward the exit. “Lost your ball again, huh? I need to put a tracker on that thing,” she said, shaking her head.
Will rose slowly from behind the hedge, brushing a few stray leaves from his shirt like a man emerging from battle—or in this case, a particularly intense round of fetch diplomacy. He clipped the leash onto Fetch’s collar, the dog practically vibrating with energy and zero remorse.
“You need to stop stealing toys. You’re going to get a reputation and banned from the park,” he warned, casting a mock stern look down at his golden accomplice.
Fetch responded with a sheepish whine, complete with tilted head and those soulfully manipulative eyes—the canine equivalent of pleading the fifth.
“We’ll see if we can find who it belongs to tomorrow,” Will promised with a sigh, as if adding toy detective to his résumé was just par for the course.
Fetch barked in agreement—loud, proud, and possibly still in denial.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the park, Alex and Lady exited stage left, leash taut, conversation ongoing…
one-sided as it may have been. Will and Fetch made their way to the right, disappearing behind the hedge like a pair of clueless rom-com leads written into a slow burn neither of them saw coming.
The hedge rustled gently in their wake, swaying like it knew something they didn’t—like fate itself was perched in the branches, smirking behind leafy green fingers and gearing up for round two.