Blake's POV

As usual, I woke up to take care of the kitchen and make sure my son had a healthy breakfast in the morning before school.

When I noticed Liam enter the kitchen without Queen kicking at his heels, that was my very first unusual red flag.

And here I always thought red flags came from carnivals...

        At first glance, I saw the tears stain his cheekbones as he approached me next to the kitchen counter, whimpering.

"What's wrong, little man?" I questioned. "Where's Queen?"

"I don't know," he cried out. "She was supposed to be in my room with me last night and she wasn't."

          Hm, that's weird.

"Queen! Come here, girl!" I called out to her, but the eagerness to run around in circles and run over to us never echoed back.

           "I think something is wrong, daddy," Liam worried, nibbling at his bottom lip.

            "Maybe she's outside, maybe she's—" I explained, hoping to sound positive and reassuring as I stood up to walk to the front door. When I opened it, I didn't dream that I would stumble upon seeing Emma standing there. My eyes nearly bulged out of their socket.

          Standing outside of my home was Emma, wearing a tattered black dress in her bare feet.

          "How did you know where I lived?" Caution caked my nervous face. "Oh no, was it someone from the market?"

          "Yeah, it wasn't hard at all. I asked a regular who I was talking to. Goes by the name of...Cheryl. She said you might be here."

          "Oh, dear, I wish you hadn't met her. She has a destructive obsession with me." As I commented on Cheryl's character, I inspected Emma's feet. Not only were they bare, but they were filthy, like she had been running.

           "Duly noted," Emma replied. "Sorry to stop by like this unannounced. I lost my phone, so I never got the chance to respond to you. I really wanted to apologize for ditching you on our date. I was having car troubles, and well, I don't exactly live around here."

            "Oh, I should have known better." I cackled considerately. "No worries. I'm glad you're okay, and I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have made you walk all the way out here just to make amends. How foolish of me. Come in!"

             "No, I don't want to intrude. I—"

             "Nonsense," I cut in. "I was just making breakfast with my son. I bet Liam is just dying to meet you!"

              Her dainty eyebrows creased up as if she couldn't believe that. "You talked to your son about me?"

               "Yes, since my wife, Annie—his mother, died, we've had this spoken rule that we should always be open and honest with each other."

               "I'm so sorry for your loss," she said, "and I agree that's a good rule to follow. You and your son must have such a tight bond."

                "The tightest," I noted.

                ...

                Emma's POV

                In my human form, I watched the house from the sidelines, or in this case, the end of the street. After making the journey back all the way from the warehouse, and hiding the book in a safe spot under a blanket of dirt, I found myself unable to shift, carry on with this mission, and face the Davenport's as their dog.

I always presented myself as a creature of the night, living in the shadows of my own world, but not anymore. I was riding a carousel of conflict and confusion, caught between the choice of which horse to take a spin on. Should I take the safe route that looks most familiar to me, or should I explore the area less traveled?

                Or should I give up altogether?

                 I think being their dog was turning out to be the biggest part of my problem. If I didn't figure out and decide which side I was on, I could be kissing my life goodbye.

                 The neighborhood was startling bright with the sun blowing on the horizon and sending the sky to a raspberry glow.

                  Day is breaking, and as long as it doesn't wither away, the start of change is coming, or well, blossoming.

                 I thought about trying a new alternative approach. It played out in my head that I could go back to their house as Emma in the hopes of finding out what I needed while also giving them what they needed.

                 In an absurd fashion, that's kind of exactly what I did.

                As for what they needed, Blake's family was plagued by losses, leading to loneliness and frustration. To connect with someone like him wasn't a common occurrence for me. Similar to how I was, he didn't seem like he connected socially with others either — if his father had spoken wisely. If I stepped in to be there for them, my life would literally depend on it.

              Or maybe I was completely overthinking all of this?

               Regardless, something was about to come to fruition, bearing its forbidden fruit.

               Looking back on it, I don't think there was any stopping it.

                I have never felt such raw emotion for a person before, but I've also never felt this deep ache inside my chest. This ache harbored my love there. Love for this man. Love for this family. Love for this life he had made.

               Blake was strong-willed, mindful of the fact he's not perfect, but he still made it seem perfect with his responsibilities as a single father intact. He was perfect in the sense he procured the best education for his son while fighting his own battles. If anyone could claim their warrior status, it was him. His spirit.

              I found it hard to imagine him discovering my secret. The more I knew about him, the more I wanted to get to know him better. Be a part of his life.

Standing at the door in nothing but a worn out black dress was the highest form of indignity. Not only was my dress worn out, I was worn to a frazzle. My feebleness clearly paraded around my whole face.

             In his eyes that accentuated mine at seeing me again in my human form, I could sense the damage that was done by his wife's accident and his daughter's tragic death.

He was muddled with his feelings about me, not only for my unexpected visit that I know he'd be annoyed by, but because he said to his own father that he lost his precious wife, a woman he loved so deeply, and a daughter he cherished with all his heart.

Even the slightest lying that spilled out of my mouth when Blake did catch me outside, perplexed by how I found out where he lived, was like a punch straight in the gut. 

           Blake mentioned this sick obsession Cheryl has with him, and I've started thinking it's contagious.

             As much as I was shocked to learn that I've grown to care about him, my stomach still churned at the thought of being open and honest with him about who I really was.

            What I really was.

             Piece by piece, it doesn't take a genius to recognize how much the world despised me.

Complicated and rough, my life was like a storm, or a disaster film waiting to happen.

I never even met Cheryl at the store, I met her when I was with Blake and his son at a freaking vet's office!

The real kicker about all of this was I was supposed to be their dog, yet I was standing on two feet instead of four, cold and winded as someone just dying for a piece of normalcy.

A small portion of it popped out in the form of a small boy. Liam perked up at the door with a curious, cheeky smile. "Hi," he said, which was enough to make me melt into a bowl of soup. "You must be Emma."

...

Blake's POV

I couldn't quite place the deja vu that I was getting, like I was meeting a different woman this time.

This Emma was slightly more shy and reserved than the last time I encountered her.

Cryptically, I eyed her as she walked in my living quarters, getting a feel for the place.

            There was fear crippling in her eyes as she looked behind her like she was making sure no one else had followed her.

Several things were happening at once, but I didn't miss the scratch she bore on her palm. Brows furrowed in concern, I noticed the marks were located in the same area where I fixed Queen. What a coincidence.

As my confusion grew, I was unaware of the signals I was sending to Emma. I shouldn't have been caught staring at her.

She eyed me with a fixed expression. "See something you like?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said apologetically. "How rude of me. I didn't mean to snoop. I was checking out the scar on your hand. It looks like it was treated well."

"Uh... um... yeah, I had a really good doctor," she said anxiously.

"What happened to it?" I asked.

"My c-cat." Emma stumbled on her words. "She went a little bit crazy."

Liam, who was an emotional wreck over our dog not being around, was a little nervous to say anything in front of Emma.

As devastating as it was, he was so excited to introduce her to our pet and then a cry tore from his throat, a tear trickling down his pleasantly youthful face.

Since Emma was here, I might as well ask her to join the search. "Do you like dogs?"

"Yes, I love them!" Emma gushed happily.

"Good, because we could really use your help," I choked out. "Queen, our German Shepherd, has gone missing."

...