After another long day at the shop, we’re finally closed. We secure all the dogs in their kennels for the night, say goodbye to Wanda, Avril, and Eden, leash up Gidget, and leave the store. 

In the week since Doggy Style has been open, I’ve spent every night with Preston, but it wasn’t just because I wanted to jump into this relationship. My landlord raised my rent and I can’t afford the increase. Well, I technically could with my new salary, but I’d rather find a bigger place. All of my own dogs are staying with Avril, and all of my foster dogs are staying at the store. Next week, I’ll finally have time to look for a rental house with a big yard, but until then, I’m happy Preston’s been so gracious and let me stay with him.

And we’ve had fun. I mean, in addition to the mind-blowing sex, we actually get along. When I first met Preston, I immediately assumed we didn’t have a single thing in common, but we actually share a lot of similar interests. We’ve spent many nights this past week getting takeout and indulging in horror movies or discussing our favorite true crime books. When we cruise around town in Preston’s truck, we’ve been blasting our favorite heavy metal bands.

But one thing we haven’t done is talk. 

I mean really talk. 

I want him to open up to me. I want to understand what’s going on with his father. 

And I want to confide in him about my own past. If he’s going to run away, I need to know now before I get even more attached to him. A voice in the back of my mind whispers, too late, but I choose to ignore it.

Preston takes my hand. “Let’s go out for dinner tonight instead of staying in. Have you been to Sharkeez? They’re dog-friendly so we can bring Gidget.” I smile. It’s like he read my mind.

“I love Sharkeez. They did a fundraiser once for Pugs N Roses.”

“Cool. Let’s walk.”

We leave the store and walk hand in hand to Sharkeez. The sun begins to set, and the cool ocean breeze blows the day’s worries away. I know I came off harsh to that family who wanted to adopt Lola, the bully, but I don’t care. Although I do hope Preston doesn’t resent me. I’ll find her a good home. 

The hostess seats us at a table. After we ask for some chips and guacamole, I order a hand-muddled strawberry margarita and vegan enchiladas, and Preston orders a Corona and steak fajitas. 

After a few sips of my margarita, my nerves relax. “Hey, sorry about earlier. That family just rubbed me the wrong way.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t like them either. Just try to be a bit more patient when you explain to people about rescue dogs.”

I try not to get annoyed by what he just said, but it’s hard. I suppose he’s right. I should be more positive and upbeat. Like Avril. Like Eden. I shake off my frustration.

The waitress brings us our chips and guacamole. I watch Preston and notice him eyeing everyone in the restaurant. Not rude or like checking out other women, but just studying them, like he’s either about to hold up this place, or arrest someone.

I exhale. Time to go deep. “So, what happened to you over in Iraq?”

His turn to exhale. He knocks back his beer. “We were clearing buildings. Some insurgent threw a hand grenade into the building. My buddy, Grady, jumped on it and saved our lives, though Rafael, one of our buddies, got blown to pieces. Grady’s face was blown up, too.” He speaks as if he’s reciting a report, detached entirely, almost robotic.

I get it though. Sometimes I need to separate myself from my emotions to hide my pain. Like I said, maybe we’re more alike than I initially thought.

And wow. That’s intense. I reach out to touch his hand. He doesn’t pull back. “I’m sorry, Preston. I had no idea.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine.”

But he doesn’t sound fine. I should move on, change the subject. Instead, I blurt out, “I don’t get it. You’re a war hero. Why does your dad hate you so much? Just because of the tape?”

His eyes glaze over. “Well, that put the nail in the coffin. He really believes I leaked that video. I didn’t. He doesn’t believe that a woman would leak it. Kira denied it to his face, as she did to mine, but he believes her and not me. But I promise you, Yessi, I didn’t leak it. I don’t know what to believe.”

I need to let it go, but I can’t. “But that’s it? He hates you so much just because of that? There has to be more.”

“I mean, of course, there’s more. I was a punk ass kid before I joined the Corps. The Marines made me the man I am today. Dad had wanted me to move back home when I got out and work for him. He runs a restaurant on the North Shore. But I wanted to make my own way. So he thinks I sold out and ruined his name, all for the notoriety. I didn’t, but he won’t listen to me, so that’s that.”

“That’s never that. I mean if I had a family, I would do anything to repair the relationship.”

His shoulders drop, and he stares intensely into my eyes. I can see him soften. “Sorry, I sound like a selfish asshole. At least I have a family. Your turn, babe. Tell me about your past.”

Well, I asked for it. No turning back now. “Not much to tell. My mom was a drug addict. I was lucky that she didn’t use when she was pregnant with me, but after my dad left, she became a hooker and addicted to smack. Her family had disowned her. CPS took me in when I was five. They couldn’t locate any of her family, or so they said. I think they did find her family, and they just didn’t want me. Anyway, it took a while to go through the courts and terminate her rights, so I wasn’t up for adoption until I was twelve. No one wanted to adopt a twelve-year-old. I even did one of those Wednesday’s Child segments on television where they try to guilt people into adopting. For my day out, they took me to an animal shelter, and I started volunteering there but didn’t get into rescuing until after high school. Back then, I would just read to the stray cats and dogs. So, after no one adopted me, I just aged out of the foster system. Met some guy, Juan. I always liked to draw, so he taught me how to tattoo. And that’s that.”

Preston blinks rapidly like he’s trying to hold back tears. “Babe, I’m sorry. You’re so strong and tough. I can’t even imagine growing up like that.”

“I’m fine. It’s better in some ways. I have no one to disappoint. No one to tell me what to do.” No one to love.

“Hey, stop. It’s not better. Stop trying to make it seem like you’re above love and pain. Being sad about it is okay. It’s okay to dream of having a family. It’s okay to want love.”

Ah, fuck. I do not want to cry. Not at all. The waitress brings our meals, and I thank her as she places my food in front of me. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be vulnerable in front of Preston. The rest of our meal is shared in silence.

After dinner, we walk on the beach with Gidget.

Preston kisses me under the moonlight.

“Yessi, I know we haven’t known each other long, but I think I love you.”

My heart jumps through my chest. Loves me? It’s so soon. Does he really mean it?

But I know he does. Because I feel it too.

“I love you, too.”