It's not even noon yet, and I feel like I've lived through a whole new version of myself.
After Noah parks the car, we head to the nearest pet shop. It's not a fancy one, just a local store tucked in a strip mall, but it smells like hay, wood shavings, and kibble—and the fluorescent lighting makes everything feel slightly surreal.
He grabs a shopping basket while I hold the puppy, her little head tucked under my chin. I walks slowly, careful with every step like she's made of glass.
"I think she likes you more than me," he says with a soft laugh.
"She just has taste," I reply with a grin, "as you said."
"Well, indeed." His eyes flickers with tease.
The aisles are stacked with dog food, toys, and accessories. I lead the way to the puppy care section. "Okay, so for starters, don't buy the cheapest kibble. Her stomach's still sensitive. Get one with chicken and rice, maybe a bit of pumpkin."
He nods, watching me carefully. "Noted. Pumpkin for royalty."
