STEPHANIE
...

When I get home, the apartment is quiet except for the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen.

Amber isn’t around—not that I expected her to be. She texted earlier saying she was going out to dinner, something about a blind date.

My sister and I, share the same cursed streak of luck when it comes to love. It’s almost poetic how consistently bad we are at choosing people.

I’m not complaining. My last relationship was back in my first year of college, and now, as an overworked and underpaid intern, I don’t exactly have the time—or the energy—to be entertaining any romantic distractions.

Love always felt like this endless black hole, sucking up everything good and leaving you hollow. Or maybe it just feels that way when you’re not with the right person.

I kick off my sneakers and drop my bag by the door. I head straight for my room, shutting the door behind me, a habit I got used to. Even when Amber is not here, I feel the need to lock my door.

Agony would be her walking in on me while I'm doing ASMR.

I roll out my yoga mat in the corner and settle into a few poses, trying to work out the tension in my shoulders. The stretches feel good, but my brain doesn’t stop misbehaving.

I take a second to decide the best solution before I grab my mat and change into my yoga pants.

The air is cool as I pedal through the park, the sun dipping low on the horizon, casting everything in that golden-hour glow.

It’s busier than I expected—kids shrieking as they chase each other, couples walking hand in hand, joggers pounding the pavement.

With today's heavy rains, you'd expect everyone to be indoors drinking hot chocolate or whatever. But the sun has the audacity to come out and make everything so beautiful again. Hard to resist that.

I weave through them, finding a quieter spot off the main trail.

I prop my bike against a tree, grab my yoga mat from the basket, and unroll it on the grass.

It’s a nice spot—shaded by a cluster of trees, but with just enough sunlight streaming through the branches. I slip off my sneakers, stretch out my arms, and start my routine.

The familiar motions help. Downward dog, cobra, child’s pose—it’s like my body knows what to do even if my brain refuses to shut up. I try to focus on my breathing, to let the tension melt away.

But Melody’s face keeps popping into my head. The way she looked this morning, stepping out of the bathroom with her damp hair sticking to her neck was distracting and I forgot what the hell I was doing for a minute.

“Get it together, Steph,” I mutter, wishing I could turn back time and tell my dumfounded self that from this morning.

The park is peaceful in its own way. Birds chirp in the distance, and the faint conversations drifts over from a nearby bench. I’m finally starting to feel like myself again when something brushes against my arm.

I freeze, twisting to look.

It’s a dog.

A small, scruffy thing with floppy ears and fur the color of caramel. Its tail wags furiously, and its big, brown eyes practically sparkle as it stares up at me. Around its neck hangs a tag that reads Willy.

“Well, hey there, Willy,” I say, surprised at how soft my voice comes out.

He wags his tail harder, his entire body vibrating with excitement.

“Where’d you come from, huh?” I glance around, searching for an owner, but no one nearby seems to be looking for a dog. “You’re not just wandering around on your own, are you?”

Willy plops down in front of me, still wagging. His tongue rolls out, and I can’t help but smile.

“You’re cute,” I admit, scratching behind his ear carefully.

Some dogs are cute but they don't like to be touched. Willy though is cool. His fur is warm, a little messy, but soft.

“You, Willy, are the cutest thing I’ve seen all day.”

I pause, leaning back on my hands. Willy doesn’t leave. He just watches me like he’s waiting for me to say something.

And for some reason, I do.

“It’s funny,” I tell him, “but I had one of the best days I've ever had in a while today.”

His tail thumps against the ground.

“Not that you asked,” I continue, stretching my legs out in front of me. “But it’s been... weirdly good. You ever have one of those days where everything feels like it’s supposed to go wrong but then it doesn’t? Like, somehow, it’s just... nice?”

Willy tilts his head like he’s actually listening.

“So, get this,” I say, folding my legs. “So my boss, Jeremiah calls me this morning asking if I can do him a favor and he would add a few bucks to my pay. I say, 'no problem' because who says no to that? Then he asks me if I can take his little sister to the Doctor for review today. I want to say no but I think about how wonderful my own place would feel so I say yes.”

I pause for a breath.

“Fast forward to after, we get stuck in the car because the rain won't stop and I'm a total chicken. And it wasn’t even annoying, which is shocking because she’s usually the most annoying person I know. Now we are like on a cute little car date, we even watch a movie. Like how romantic can it get?”

He doesn’t answer, obviously, but his tail keeps wagging.

“It was perfect,” I admit. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

Willy leans forward to sniff my knee, his nose cold against my skin.

“I guess it’s because you’re easy to talk to,” I say, rubbing his head. “Unlike her. Melody’s—how do I even explain it? She gets under my skin in ways no one else can. But she’s also—”

I stop myself. What is she? Kind? Thoughtful? Cute? Maybe a little too good at reading me? I shake my head.

“Doesn’t matter,” I say firmly, more to myself than the dog. Saying all that out loud feels like too much. “She’s just someone I have to deal with for work. That’s all.”

Willy makes a whiny sound like he doesn’t believe me.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I say, pointing a finger at him. “I’m not going crazy. Yet.”

He flops onto his side, belly up, clearly expecting more attention. I laugh, scratching his stomach.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little crazy,” I admit. “But you’re not helping.”

For a while, I just sit there, running my fingers through his fur. The sun is going down now. Willy doesn’t move, content to lounge beside me like we’ve known each other forever.

Eventually, though, a voice calls out from the other side of the trees.

“Willy! There you are!”

I look up to see a woman jogging over, her face flushed with relief.

“Is he yours?” I ask as she approaches.

“Yeah, he wandered off earlier,” she says, clipping a leash onto his collar. “Thank you for keeping an eye on him.”

“No problem,” I say, giving Willy one last pat. “Good dog.”

The woman smiles, waving as she leads him away. Willy looks back at me, wagging his tail one last time before disappearing down the path.

For a moment I stare at the empty space where he’d been.

Did I really just unload my feelings on a dog? Is this my life now?

Over one teenager who should be annoying?

With a groan, I flop back onto my mat, staring up at the sky.

“I need help,” I mutter.