I stop in the doorway. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he says without turning. “I just…I can’t believe he’s here.”
“Like…in a good way?” I ask hopefully, because I love Max, and, more important, I know Leo loves Max, and even though he was the one to end it, it’s obvious how much he misses him.
“I don’t know yet,” he says. “I have no clue what this means, and I’m scared to ask. The puppy was chewing everything, and I kept wishing I could call him, so I just sort of…did.”
“Have you guys talked about anything else?”
“No,” Leo says, shaking his head. “That’s the crazy part. He borrowed a car and drove all the way down here. Five hours! But then all we’ve been doing is playing with the dog. And not talking. At least not about anything real.”
I nod. “But he’s here.”
“He’s here,” Leo agrees, watching Max half-drag the puppy—who is clamped to the cuff of his jeans—around the yard. “I wish I knew what it meant.”
“Well, it might help to start by talking to him instead of me.”
He nods. “Yeah, but I’m just afraid if we start talking, we’ll…”
“Jinx it?” I ask, and he gives me a sheepish smile.
“I know you think I’m nuts.”
“I think,” I say, watching him closely, “that the only reason you broke up with him was so that he wouldn’t break up with you first.”
“What?” Leo stares at me. “No.”
“I think you were so busy waiting for something bad to happen that instead of getting blindsided, you decided to just go ahead and do it yourself.”
He shakes his head, refusing to look at me. But I can tell by the color in his cheeks that I’m right.
“Listen,” I say, more gently now. “Most terrible things that happen are out of your control. So it makes no sense to add some of your own. Especially not because you’re scared, okay? You love Max. And he loves you.” When Leo opens his mouth to protest, I stop him. “He does. Believe me, he didn’t drive five hours just to see the puppy.”
“Maybe not,” Leo admits, his eyes drifting out the window.
“I don’t know if it’ll work out with you guys. Not everyone is that lucky,” I say, feeling a familiar ache in my chest as I think of Teddy. “But don’t screw it up for yourself. If it’s gonna happen, at least let the universe do it for you.”
He allows a smile. “I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff.”
“I don’t,” I say with a shrug. “But you do. So go out there and talk to him. Take a walk or get some coffee or something. I’ll keep an eye on the puppy.”
Leo smiles. “Lucky.”
“Well, maybe not as lucky as you, but…”
“No,” he says, laughing. “That’s his name.”
“What?”
“The dog. I think we should call him Lucky.”
I stare at him. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little…?” I don’t exactly know how to finish this sentence, but it doesn’t matter, because Leo isn’t listening anyway; he’s too busy watching Max roll around on the grass with the dog.
Here’s what I know: it has nothing to do with luck, this moment, and everything to do with love.
