Semua Bab A Bark in the Park: Bab 1 - Bab 10

There was a rhythm to walking dogs.It wasn’t just about the leashes or the routes—it was the quiet in between. The slow, deliberate steps. The weight of paws hitting pavement. The occasional huff or sneeze from someone sniffing too close to a tulip.I liked the noise of the city from a distance, not in it, but near it. Moving through side streets with half a dozen dogs gave me cover. I wasn’t invisible, but didn’t have to be seen either. People saw the dogs first. They smiled, pointed, and asked if they could pet the fluffy one or guessed Rufio’s breed like it was a game. I let them. I smiled when it was expected, nodded when I had to, and kept my head down when I didn’t.It was safer that way.

Thursdays weren’t usually this packed.I’d picked up a new client last week—a couple with twin spaniels and zero leash training experience—and somehow, I was now responsible for two hyper dogs who thought every pigeon was a personal affront. Add an excitable puppy and a moody Boston terrier, and I was one leash tangle away from losing my patience and possibly a kneecap.Normally, I’d bring Rufio along. He liked the action. But today? He was wired. Restless in that specific way that said he wasn’t going to walk—he was going to challenge physics.And Zeus and Tinkerbell weren’t scheduled today, which meant one thing: they were at home. Wh

Amaya smiled too easily.It wasn’t a criticism. Just an observation. A fact.She had the kind of smile that cracked open a room. Wide, bright, unfiltered. Like she hadn’t been taught to keep her joy quiet.I wasn’t used to people like that.Most of the world I’d known—before Rufio, before Makayla helped me become someone else—was full of shadows. People who smiled with their mouths but never their eyes. People who calculated every word, every move. Survival wasn’t about brightness. It was about silence.But Amaya?She laughed with her whole body when Baby Girl flipped onto her back mid-crosswalk for belly rubs. She danced around tangled le

It had been two days since Marigold Grove. Since Rufio made a game out of stealing Amaya’s sketchbook like a mischief-fueled Cupid and dropped it at my feet like a gift. Since I saw my name—in her handwriting—wrapped around concepts that felt more like me than anything I’d ever admitted to out loud.And it terrified me. Not because Amaya meant any harm. But because she meant well. Because she looked at my half-functional, word-of-mouth dog-walking gig and saw potential. A future. A brand. Something that could last. Something worth building.No one had ever done that before.And it was so stupid how much I wanted to let he

Something felt distinctly off with my human. Alan had always been a quiet soul—drenched in sighs, his footsteps barely making a sound, his mind swirling with too many thoughts for one head to hold. But this? This was different.His silence now had razor-sharp edges, like glass catching the sunlight ominously. Those days were he used to hum contentedly while brewing coffee or whistle tunelessly as we walked across the road together were over. That morning, as I rushed over with my lead in anticipation, he didn't notice me, his eyes were glassy and unfocused looking at the window. Instead of achnolweding me, he rubbed his weary eyes, muttering under his breath that I couldn't quite make out.I could feel the tightness in my chest increasing. Alan thought himself skilled at hiding his emotions, but to me, everything about him seemed to scream for attention. I saw how his position had slumped, his fists curled into tight balls as if clutching at invisible strings, and the faint difference