“How old is he?”
“About three.The vet guessed he was ten or eleven months when I found him.”
She tilted her head.“You didn’t go to a breeder or something?”
“Absolutely not,” I scoffed.“To each their own, but I prefer to help the animals who need it.”
“So you rescued him,” she exhaled, as if another piece of the puzzle had just snapped into place.
“Yeah.”I glanced at her, admiring her silhouette in the early morning light.“Let me guess.Victor only allowed dogs with pedigrees worth more than most cars.”
“I wish.”She rolled her eyes.“He hated animals.That should have been my first clue he wasn’t a good person.”
“What kind of sociopath doesn’t like animals?”I mused as Cato flopped down in the grass, rolling happily around in the dust.“Especially dogs.”
“The worst kind,” she said with a laugh.“Where did you find him?”
“Here,” I said, motioning toward the north edge of the property.“Near the old graveyard.”
She stopped mid-step.“There’s an old graveyard?”
“By the original house.A log cabin from the mid-1700s.”
“There’s a log cabin?”
I chuckled, my smile growing.“Sure is.Even survived the Civil War.The current main house wasn’t built until the early 1900s.”
“Wow.”
“I’ll take you up there sometime,” I offered.“When your knee’s a little stronger.It’s a bit of a hike.”
She smiled softly.“Sounds wonderful.”
I tried not to read too much into her answer, but it warmed something in my chest all the same.Gave me hope she wasn’t counting down the seconds until she could be free of me.
“So you found Cato by the graveyard?”she pressed after a few moments.
“Poor guy was skin and bones.I didn’t plan on keeping him.Just wanted to help him get healthy.”I tossed the ball again.“Two years later and he’s still here.Now I can’t imaginenothaving him in my life.He’s definitely happy to be back here, that’s for sure.”
Ariana’s smile turned wistful.“He didn’t like the snow up in Maine?”
“He actually loves the snow.Miami, though?”I grimaced.“Not so much.He likes space.Freedom.”
“I can’t blame him there,” she said quietly, and I could hear the hidden meaning in her words.
“Guess so.”I shoved my hands into my pockets, unsure what to say.
As much as I wanted to remind her she was here for her own safety, I knew it was a sore spot.I didn’t want to argue.Not now.Now when we were finally getting along.
“I’ve never been a fan of Miami myself,” she admitted after a beat.“Everything there feels fake.The people.The places.Nothing’s real.It’s definitely not the life I imagined when I was a kid.”
“What kind of lifedidyou imagine?What did you want to be when you grew up?”
There was so much I wanted to learn about her now that I knew the woman I thought her to be was nothing but a façade.An act she put on to protect herself from her husband.
“You meanotherthan a ballerina or black belt in karate?”
A chuckle escaped.“Naturally.”
