“Makes sense,” Ava says, resting her hands on her hips. “Any news from your agent?”
“She hasn’t submitted to publishers yet. It’s being reviewed by an in-house editor and then they’re going to try and sell it.”
Ava smiles. “I hope it happens, Quinn. I’m going to freak the fuck out if I walk into a bookstore and see your book on the shelf.”
“You and me both.”
Graham walks inside with the puppy and Ava meets him at the door. “It’s late, I gotta go,” she says, talking to the puppy while scratching him on his head. “I hope when I see you tomorrow you have a name.”
Graham and I tell her goodbye and he locks the door behind her. He cradles the puppy in his arms and walks over to me. “Guess who used the bathroom twice so his mommy and daddy can get a few hours of sleep?”
I pull the puppy out of Graham’s arms and squeeze him. He licks my cheek and then rests his head in the crease of my elbow. “He’s tired.”
“I’m tired, too,” Graham says, yawning.
I put the puppy into his crate and cover it with a blanket. Neither of us knows anything about dogs, so we’ve been reading as much as we possibly can about how to crate-train them, what they eat, how they should be disciplined, how much they should sleep.
Sleep has definitely been the most difficult thing to tackle so far. Being the owner of a new puppy comes with new hurdles, but the biggest of those hurdles is exhaustion. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, though. Every time that little puppy looks at me, I melt.
Graham and I make our way to the bedroom. We leave our door open so we can hear the puppy if he starts to cry. When we crawl into bed, I roll toward Graham and rest my head on his chest.
“I can’t imagine what having a newborn must be like if a puppy is this tiring,” I say.
“You’re forgetting about all our sleepless nights with Coriander, Paprika, Cinnamon, Saffron, Juniper, and Parsley.”
I laugh. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I curl even more into Graham, and he tightens his hold around me. I do my best to fall asleep, but my mind keeps running through potential puppy names until I’m positive I’ve exhausted every name in existence.
“Quinn.” Graham’s voice is against my ear, warm and quiet. “Quinn, wake up.” I open my eyes and pull away from his chest. He points behind me and says, “Look.”
I half-turn and glance over at the alarm clock, right as it changes to midnight. Graham leans in to my ear and whispers, “It’s the eighth of August. Ten years later and we’re happily married. I told you so.”
I sigh. “Why am I not surprised that you remembered that?”
I don’t know how I didn’t expect this moment. The number eight holds so much meaning to us that the date should have been obvious to me, but I’ve been so preoccupied with the puppy the last few days, I didn’t even realize today was the eighth of August.
“August,” I whisper. “That’s what we’ll name the puppy.”
Acknowledgments
* * *
With every book I write, there are people in the beginning who get the scraps I end up throwing away. I ruin plot twists for them. I change story lines. I make reading my words a little bit of a confusing chore. Especially with the many versions of All Your Perfects. A huge thank-you to Kay Miles, Vilma Gonzalez, Marion Archer, Karen Lawson, Lauren Levine, Vannoy Fite, Kim Jones, Jo Popper, Brooke Howard, and Joy Nichols for always being honest. And there.
To Tarryn Fisher. I love you and your whole stupid family.
Thank you to my agent, Jane Dystel, and her amazing team!
Thank you to the amazing Atria Books team. To my publisher, Judith Curr, for the past five years of support. To Ariele Stewart, my NPTBF. We can probably drop the first letter of our acronym now. To Melanie Iglesias Pérez, thank you for all you do! Which is a ton! And to my editor, Johanna Castillo. When I try to write how much I appreciate you, words seem dumb. I love you.
Thank you to CoHorts. A group of book-loving people who boost my ego and remind me daily of who I want to be.
Thank you to FP. The original 21. I credit all the good in this career to that first year. The love, support, and excitement we all held for one another is a thing of beauty. I will never forget it. I will always appreciate each one of you.
To my boys. My beautiful, wonderful men. Thanks to your father, my life would still be complete if I never had any of you. But I will never take for granted that I do have you. You bring joy to my life every single day. I hope you never stop asking me to tuck you in at night. You make me so proud.