“Everything is perfect.”
And it is. Despite the decade of misunderstanding. Despite the fake dating. Despite all the complications and chaos. Everything is finally, perfectly right.
My phone beeps again, but instead of another message from one of the girls, it’s from an unknown number.
Unknown Number: Hi, April. This is Sophia Snodgrass-Schuster from JW Real Estate. I’m confirming our meeting on Thursday morning at ten. See you then!
My stomach twists and sinks because underneath it all, I’m aware that reality is waiting. I still have to secure the lease on the commercial space on Thursday. We still have to finish out the Love at First Wag campaign. Clark still has playoffs approaching.
He still hasn’t made us official.
23
CLARK
The morningof our return to Nebraska arrives with golden sunlight streaming through the basement windows, and for the first time in ten years, I wake up knowing exactly where I stand with April Hansen.
She’s my girlfriend.
My actual, real, not-fake girlfriend. Well, we didn’t define terms exactly. But it’s basically true. I mean, I think so. I hope so.
Slightly disoriented, I lie in my bunk for a moment, listening to her breathing above me, the soft rustling as she shifts in her sleep. The dogs are starting to stir—Moose’s snoring has stopped, which means he’ll be demanding breakfast any minute.
But I take this moment just to exist in the wonder of it all.
April had a crush on me in high school and her feelings have continued into the present day. How did we not know that it was mutual? We wasted ten years being fools, but we’re not wasting any more time.
I climb out of bed quietly, not wanting to wake her yet, andhead upstairs. Mom is already in the kitchen. She’s making French toast—a family favorite—and wearing a knowing smile.
I review the poignant moments from this weekend. When I stood in this same space, my head spinning off in a dozen different directions as I thought about what my sister said, what Whitaker did, and all of the heartache we could’ve avoided. Most of all, I worried that when April woke up, she’d want to leave and maybe never see me again.
She stayed.
And all is right in the world.
“Morning, sweetie,” Mom says, pouring me a cup of coffee. “Sleep well?”
“Better than I have in years.”
She pats my cheek. “I’d say it’s because you’ve had a few days off to relax, but I think I know the real reason. I’m so happy for you. For both of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I take a sip, working up the courage to ask what I need to ask. “Can I talk to you about something?”
“Always.”
I lean against the counter, choosing my words carefully. “When did you know about April and me?”
Mom laughs softly. “I’ve known since you brought her to Thanksgiving your freshman year of college. The way you looked at her—it was the same puppy dog look your father gave me until I could no longer resist.” She shakes her head fondly.
“That obvious, huh?”
“To a mother? Most certainly.” She refills her own cup.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“I share most of my opinions, but I knew this was something you needed to navigate with April, not your mom.”
I nod, understanding now.
