33
ELEANOR
Luke’s text circles in my head throughout the entire workweek.
I never replied to it. And he never texted again.
I’m starting to miss him. In fact, I’ve missed him since he left my apartment. But I’m not ready to forgive. Not entirely.
“He wanted you so bad that he did anything to get you! Isn’t that beautiful?” Jolene says over lunch on Friday when she finally gets the full story out of me.
“Maybe in a rom-com, but not in real life,” I reply.
Which is true. The compliment is lost when there’s a red flag waving in my face.
I’m a little surprised he hasn’t been trying harder to get my attention. On one hand, I respect it, and on the other, I’m annoyed. Grovel! Fight for me! Find me! Show up at my window with a boombox overhead!
Scratch that last one. That’s not romantic, either. That’s just creepy. It's great in a movie, though.
“Okay, but like, the lie is really harmless at the end of the day,” Jolene says.
“Maybe it is, but maybe it isn’t. He kept up that lie for a while. What happens when it’s actually something that could really hurt?” Make no mistake, this really hurts. But I can acknowledge it’s not the same as cheating, and it’s not violence.
Jolene sighs, chewing a big bite of Caesar salad. Once she gulps it down, she rolls her eyes. “I don’t know, no one is perfect.”
“True.”
“And like, he’s perfect in every other way, right?”
I raise my eyebrows in agreement. “I feel like I have a scale in my brain that I keep adding weights to, trying to see if the bad outweighs the good.”
“And?”
I shake my head. “Why are women always having to settle? Why do we always have to put up with—”
“Eleanor. What’s the scale actually saying?”
That’s the thing. I don’t like what it’s saying. Or I think I shouldn’t like what it’s saying. Luke has mostly pros. He’s smart and sexy, charming and sweet, a gentleman, a provider. I never thought I could meet a prince.
Guess I haven’t.
“The good technically outweighs the bad.”
Jolene pumps her fist. “Yes!”
“ But— ”
“No buts! Only butts.”
I sigh. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m trying to make you see that you can’t intellectualize everything, Eleanor. I know that’s what has always protected you, but . . .”
“You said no buts.”
Jolene smirks and reaches her hands out. I let her grab mine. Our clasped hands rest between us on the table. “I’m not going to say it’s not concerning. And I’m not going to devalue how you feel. But have you ever considered that maybe you might see that he’s a man who can learn from his mistakes?”
It’s a risk. But it’s not a bad one.
Her words run through my mind the rest of the day, until I get a call from Harmony Hounds. Not from Claire though. Apparently, they’d like me to come down and see Shortbread. Keep him in good spirits and maybe take him for a test drive. Take him on a walk, feed him, and see how we gel.
I plan to go out there on Sunday. Before I leave the museum, I grab the copy of the photo and load the music onto a USB.
Sunday morning, right as I step out of my apartment, I get another call.
From Luke.
I can’t not answer. I’m compelled. I want to hear his voice and find out how he’s doing.
Just because he’s on my shitlist doesn’t mean I don’t care.
“Hey,” I answer.
Luke blows out a breath. “You picked up.”
The relief is evident in his voice, and it makes me want to cry. “I did. Hi.”
“Hi.”
There’s a short pause.
“W-what are you doing right now?”
“Headed out to Harmony Hounds to see Shortbread again,” I say.
“Oh . . . that’s nice.”
I lean on the door frame. “Do you . . . want to come?”
Luke doesn’t waste a moment. “Yes, I’d love that.”
* * *
When Luke gets into my car, there’s no wall between us. We both go in for the embrace, sliding our arms around each other and pulling tight.
He smells incredible. I missed his scent on my pillows.
Luke braces a hand against the side of my head and presses his face into my curls. “I’ve missed you so much.”
He still feels safe. It’s strange, but he still feels safe even though he broke my trust.
“I’ve missed you too,” I say. And mean it.
We catch up on the whole drive to Harmony Hounds—delicately and slowly. The details come out like breadcrumbs in the forest. He tells me a bit about his gigs, and I talk about the museum. He talks about visiting his mom, and I tell him about going to trivia with Jolene and her friends.
When we get to Harmony Hounds, we’re met by the person who called me, a young guy with gauges named Stellan. He eyes Luke warily. “You’re Eleanor’s partner?”
Luke checks my expression for permission.
I answer for him. “Yeah, he is. Do you think it’d be good for Shortbread to meet him too?”
“Might be. Depends on how he responds. We’ll take it slow.”
It’s hard to take it slow with Shortbread, who bounds up to me when he sees me, clamoring for kisses.
“We gotta work on his jumping,” Stellan says.
But I don’t mind at all.
Luke hangs back, attacked with love from the other dogs. He plops down on his bottom and lets himself be taken by puppy kisses.
As Shortbread and I reunite, Stellan encourages Luke closer until Shortbread clocks him too.
Luke holds his hand out for Shortbread to approach. And the tentative, shy Shortbread doesn’t bat an eye. He goes up and licks Luke’s palm.
“Probably helps that you two smell similar,” Stellan remarks.
It’s an off-handed comment, but it strikes me in the chest. Luke and I have become entangled.
I don’t want to lose that. That settles it for me.
After they get acquainted, we head inside with Shortbread to work on leashing him to see how he handles it, if he’ll be docile.
“It’s possible a muzzle might be good for him,” Stellan says as he harnesses Shortbread. “He’s good with the dogs around here, but seeing other dogs in a new environment might bring about a different reaction.”
Hard to imagine the dog who has his snout in my hand could be snappy. I smooth my thumb down his nose and glance at Luke. “What do you think?”
“Oh, he’s perfect,” he says, beaming ear to ear, in that tone new parents seem to have when they learn their babies have ten toes and ten fingers.
A shiver goes down my spine when I get a flash of what that might actually be like with Luke, how proud he’d be to have a baby of his own, and not just a fur baby. Yep, the feelings are still there. Not going away any time soon.
“Eleanor?”
I look up to the second level to see Claire. She gives me a wave.
“Hi!”
“Let me come down and say hi.”
As Claire descends the steps, I lean into Luke. “That’s Diane’s daughter.”
Luke slides his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, I got that.” There’s an edge to his voice, which I suppose is only fair.
When Claire comes back into view, I take pause.
Blue eyes. Blonde hair.
I glance at Luke.
His eyes widen. His jaw tics.
The similarities are uncanny. Maybe I’m dreaming it.
But I did swear Claire looked familiar when we first met.
It has to be a coincidence, right?
Right?