“Mom, I’ve got to call you back, someone’s at the door.”

“Okay, sweetie, I’ll talk to you later.”

I disconnect the call, push my phone into my back pocket, and pull open the front door.

“Here.” Mo shoves a tan ball of fur at me. “I can’t take it anymore.”

I take Milo before she falls to the floor. Her glassy eyes look up, and when she catches a whiff of me, her tongue darts out, swiping my upper lip.

“Gross,” I say, pushing her nose away. “I don’t know where that mouth has been.” But Milo doesn’t care, she keeps licking anything and everything she can get her slobbery little tongue on.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t take her back. That dog is a hot mess,” Mo says, holding her hands up.

“She is not,” I say, stepping to the side so Mo can come in.

“All she’s done since you dropped her off is cry. I even swiped one of your T-shirts to put in her pen; it’s the only way I get her to eat or sleep.”

“Which T-shirt?”

“Your Bon Jovi one.”

“I’ve been looking for that. When did you take it?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “A week ago. Snagged it off your floor when you went to the bathroom, and I’m not sorry. She’s a mess, Claire. She misses you.”

I want to tell Mo it doesn’t matter, that she needs to take Milo back, but damn it, I miss Milo too. It’s been weeks, and I still find myself wanting to fill her food bowl every morning and take her on a walk every night, even though I always ended up carrying her. And as much as I hated the feel of her cold nose being shoved into my neck at the crack of dawn, I’ve missed that too.

“Fine. I’ll keep her.”

Mo’s eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yes.” I set Milo down, and she runs straight into the wall before turning around and heading in the opposite direction. “One of these days she’s going to learn not to just take off running.”

“You do know you can’t bring her back again, right?”

I look at Mo. “I know.”

“You’re her person, Claire. That might not seem like much to us, but to them, it’s everything.”

“I know, Mo. I get it. I promise she has a forever home with me. I won’t let her down again.” I mean that with every fiber of my being.

“Thank God Trevor called this morning.” Mo drops down on the couch and leans her head back on the cushion. “Because I was about to lose my mind with her incessant howling.”

“Why did Trevor call you this morning?”

“To tell me he thought you’d turned a corner last night, and you woke up in a good mood, and if I was ever going to convince you to take the dog back, now was my chance.”

“Did he now?” That conniving, wonderful, sexy man saw an opening and took it.

She nods. “Yeah. And you know, I wasn’t surprised to hear you’d turned a corner last night. I figured if anyone could get through to you, it would be him. But I was surprised to hear him say you woke up in a good mood. How would he know that, Claire?”

I pause to collect my thoughts a moment. “He stayed the night.”

“Like, slept on the couch because it was late and you talked all night and he didn’t want to drive home, stay the night? Or because he pounded the funk out of you like I told you he would, stay the night?”

I roll my eyes. “There was no pounding. He stayed because I asked him to, and he slept on the couch.” With me on top of him.

There’s a wicked gleam in her eye. “Did something happen between you two?”

“We talked. A lot. He helped me work through some things, and he’s right. I did turn a corner.”

I wasn’t lying this morning when I told Trevor I felt lighter. The guilt over my actions still simmers beneath the surface, but it’s no longer boiling over, and that’s a huge step for me.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant, and nothing happened.”

“Damn.” She pouts, patting Milo’s head when she jumps up on the couch.

Milo stumbles across Mo’s lap, landing face first in mine.

I scratch the top of her head, and then her belly when she flops over, but I look at Mo. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Mo asks.

“Everything.”

“I didn’t do anything, Claire.”

“Yes, you did. You didn’t give up on me when I was struggling not to give up on myself. You called every day even though I was grumpy and short with you. You cooked for me and took care of this little girl while I got my head on straight.”

“I did what any friend would do.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’ve got other friends, Mo, and not one of them went as far as you. Thank you for that. And thank you for forcing me to get out of the house last night and for bringing Milo back this morning. You’re a really great friend, and I’m lucky to have you.”

Her eyes fill up with tears.

“Don’t cry,” I say, pulling her into my arms. Milo grunts between us, but doesn’t bother to move.

“I can’t help it. I’ve been really emotional the last few days. I think I’m getting ready to start my period.”

“Period?” I laugh. “Nothing about shark week for you is a period. It’s a damn exclamation point.”

She’s crying and laughing, and it feels good to be back to this place with her. “I missed you,” she says.

“I’m going to be fine, Mo,” I assure her. And this time I think I mean it. “It might take some time to get back to normal, but I promise I’m getting there.”

She holds me tight in her arms for several minutes before pulling back. “Sean and Rhett are taking care of Animal Haven. Wanna hang out? We could watch a move or grab lunch.”

“I’d love that.”