Chapter Fifty-Six

Bec

“ O ur next student may have joined class a little late, but certainly caught up quickly. Please join me in congratulating our final graduate, Hopper Price,” I say as the room sounds with haphazard applause.

I barely contain my laughter when Hopper pulls his leash free from Aiden’s grasp, barreling across the space to join me at the front of the training room at the Center. I kneel down to gift him a stuffed diploma, which he tosses in the air, watches it drop to the ground, and begins playfully pouncing on the thing, adding to the incessant chorus of toy squeaks filling the room from the rest of his classmates.

It’s the last session of my puppy training course and my favorite day. At the end of each course, we host an informal get-together at the Center with no lesson plan. Instead, we throw a puppy party and celebrate the dogs—the way life should be if you ask me. Puppy courses are my favorite because the extra excitement usually results in them acting like they haven’t learned a goddamn thing in the months we’ve been working together, but it’s cute as shit.

I stand straight and cue Hop to sit, picking up the toy and tossing it to him once he finally listens and plops his butt on the ground, his eyes wide and focused on me. Aiden jogs up beside him, getting control of the leash again and huffing, exasperated at Hop’s antics.

“I’m hoping we don’t embarrass ourselves when we level up to intermediate next month.”

“You two better not embarrass me. Abby is teaching your class and I’ll never hear the end of it if she thinks I showed you… favoritism .” I whisper the last word with a grimace.

Aiden elbows me softly in the side. “It’s okay, babe. We know we’re your favorites. Your secret is safe with us.”

When we wrap up the celebration, I walk with Aiden to his car and he takes Hopper and me to Ellie’s house. Dom insisted on throwing a graduation party for Hopper, and when Dee caught wind of his plan, she threw her support to Dom and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Slowing the roll on Dom’s enthusiasm is nearly impossible once he gets going, and resisting Dee’s demands is pointless.

We walk into Ellie’s backyard and Hopper runs ahead to greet everyone. I laugh when I see a trifold set up on the outdoor dining table. Mimicking his own grad party, I assume, Dom printed and displayed at least thirty photos of Hopper on this board, completed with Congrats, Grad! in bubble letters across the top.

I scan the images, and as silly as the whole thing might seem, it warms my heart to see the memories all at once like this. Unsurprisingly, Hopper is in every photo, but Aiden and I are in most of them too. There are pictures of Hopper as a younger puppy, him sitting with the girls and me at book club, between Dom and Aiden on the couch while they watch football, the three of us on the field from the dog day at the park last month, Hopper with Judy and Evie from their visit to Aiden’s apartment a few weeks ago, and even one from when Hop first met Luca.

“What put that pretty smile on your face?” Aiden asks, grabbing both of my shoulders in his hands and massaging my neck for a few beats before dropping his hands to circle my waist.

“Did you already see this?” I ask, with a nod to the board of pictures.

“Dom made me send him at least fifty pictures so he could decide which ones needed to be on display. I gave him a lot of shit about this before I saw it, but looking at this now, I…”

I turn my head to look at him as he struggles to find the words. “What is it?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I like seeing it all like this. My family, I guess. I’ve always had Evie and my mom, and then last year Hopper, but looking at this, I can see there were still pieces missing. Pieces I’m grateful I found.” When Aiden looks down at me, I answer his smile with one of my own, clinging tightly to his forearms still wrapped around me.

“If Dom made this kind of collage for my dog, what do you think Luca’s baby book will look like?” he asks.

“I have a funny feeling they don’t make scrapbooks big enough to house the thousands of photos Dom already has of the little guy,” I say.

“They don’t. Don’t worry, I’m looking into it,” Dom says as he comes out of the house and passes us on his way to Hopper, making us both laugh.

Aiden’s chin tucks into my neck, his stubble lightly grazing along my skin. He holds me tighter for a moment, and I close my eyes and breathe, taking a second to remember everything about this moment. The feel of Aiden’s warm body at my back, his arms secure around me, the sound of our friends talking and laughing around us, the hum of cicadas buzzing in the humid August air, Hopper’s excited barks breaking through the chatter, and Luca’s sweet coos and giggles ringing through the hum of conversation.

Is this what sharing a life with Aiden would feel like? I let myself wonder what it would be like to fill every day with joyful moments like this, growing old with him at my side. I initially expect it to raise insecurities and anxieties to the surface, but instead, all I feel is this deep longing. The picture loosely forming in my mind isn’t perfect, because I’ll never be perfect and neither will he, but our lives together could be something beautiful. That feels worth the risk. That feels like the point of everything.

I’m going to tell Aiden I love him.

I’m not the same woman he met years ago, but for all the cracks and bruises he’s seen, he’s only shown me affection, compassion, and understanding. He hasn’t rushed me or pressured me to take this any faster than I was ready for. He makes me feel wanted. He makes me feel seen. He makes me feel.

Aiden brings me back to the present as he lets out a heavy sigh over my head. “Don’t look now, but your star student is about to earn a time-out,” he says.

I turn to see Hop’s snout running along the edge of the food table across the lawn, his tongue slipping out to steal pretzels and whatever else is in reach.

“Hop, leave it,” Aiden says with as much authority as he can manage, marching over to try to reign in the eager pup. I laugh as I watch Aiden begin to chase him around the yard when his cues fail. At least this time, it’s only pretzels.