I watch him walk away. My heart pounds with equal parts triumph and frustration. For each step he takes, something in my chest cinches tighter and tighter.
The click of his bedroom door echoing through the penthouse should feel like victory. I got what I wanted---my conditions met, my autonomy respected.
So why does it feel like I've lost something essential?
For the first time since this strange dance began, I wonder if we're both getting in deeper than either of us intended.
In his crate, Rufus lets out a dramatic sigh.
Yeah, buddy. Same.
I can't take my eyes off the one hand he's got on the steering wheel.
Mostly because, after last night, it's the only part of him I can look at without erupting into flames.
"Keep staring at my hand and I might be forced to show you some of its
