I crouched down. Rested my forearms on my knees. The dog moved closer, nose pressed against my legs.
“Why is it so hard for me to tell the woman I love that I want her?" The dog pressed closer, muzzle nudging against my arm.
“I love her, and I still don’t know what the heck I’m supposed to do next.” I stood, brushing off my hands, and turned to head out.
Except the scruffy dog wouldn’t let go of my sleeve. He tugged, low growl rumbling in his throat. Not mean. Just stubborn.
I stared down at him. “I don’t know what to do buddy.”
He tugged again. I sighed, kneeling one last time. My voice was rough. Tired.
“Why is it so hard to tell the woman I love that I want her?” I whispered.
A light flicked on down the hallway. I straightened. Brushed off my jeans.
Someone was here. A shadow moved behind the glass. Then the door creaked open.
Riley stood there, phone in hand, hair pulled back in a messy twist like she’d left in a hurry. She held the phone up, her brow lifted.
“I got an alert from the security camera,” she said. “Thought maybe it was raccoons again. Didn’t expect…” Her gaze landed on me. “You.”
I scratched the back of my neck. “Yeah. Sorry. I probably should’ve texted.”
She didn’t answer right away. Just leaned against the doorframe, still holding the phone like she wasn’t sure what to do with it.
My brain scrambled for something better to say—something that didn’t make me sound like a guy who broke into a dog shelter just to pour his heart out to a pack of mutts.
But that’s exactly what I was.
She stepped in a little farther, closer now. The light from the hallway brushed her face.
All I can think about is how it felt to hold that face in my hands.
"Are you really just going to leave?" she asked. "Without seeing if there was a way to make us work?"
Not quite a smile. Not quite a smirk. But something open. Something trying.
She was meeting me halfway.
I took a slow step towards her. “What do you want, Riley?”
She let out a breath and glanced down.
“I want you to go,” she said.
My brow lifted.
She looked back up, eyes narrowing. “No—I mean, I don’t want you to go. But I do. Ugh.” She shook her head. “You earned this, Colton. You worked your butt off, and I’m so proud of you.”
She took another step, her voice quieter now. “I love the reason you’re going. I just hate that it means you have to leave."
I studied her for a long moment, my voice low. "You didn’t ask how this would work. Or if I wanted you to come see me play. So, what am I supposed to think?"
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her hand tugged once at the hem of her sleeve before she finally spoke.
“I just… I don’t know how this works, Colton.” She glanced up at me, then away again. “I don’t know if I can do long distance. I don’t know if I can watch you leave and not feel like my heart’s being ripped out.”
“So, what?” I asked. “You’d rather end things before we even try? Because that’s what it feels like.”
