Dale shrugged. “Maybe, if there’s pizza after this. And then I need to go to Paw Pals. I promised Alison and Emma I’d work today.”

“Work” being that Alison and Emma would watch over Dale while pretending not to, and Dale would hang out and greet people or sit in the sweet or salty yard and play with the dogs. It’d been the highlight of his days.

“Son, you know I love you, right?”

Simon sighed. “Yeah, Dad. I know.”

“Good. Do you know you also deserve to be happy? Your mom wouldn’t want the promise she extracted from you to mean you don’t get your happy.”

“Dad—”

“How long are you going to be stupid about Emma?”

Simon looked over at his dad. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, I heard you dumped her. Which actually makes you an asshole on top of stupid.”

The receptionist slid her head out her glass window and gave Dale a hard look. “Mr. Armstrong, please watch your language.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said politely, then looked at Simon. “You do know that girl is your better half, right?”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“I mean it, son. She puts up with your shit, she puts up with my shit, she puts up with Alison’s shit, and on top of all that, she’s the magic behind your smile. Son, you don’t get rid of your magic. You keep it. You treasure it, for always.”

The receptionist glared at Dale, who lifted his hands in apology. He turned to Simon. “You deserve a lot too. Look, son, different angle. You know how my life is different now. You see it, right? That I’m different because of it.”

Simon nodded. “And?”

“And . . . it would be stupid for me to choose to try and do things I could do before the strokes. Not only would I fail, I don’t want to do those same things anymore. You get me?”

Yeah. Simon did. He’d asked Emma to become the same person as before the accident. Not only couldn’t she do that, she didn’t want to.

“Mr. Armstrong?” the receptionist called. “The doctor will see you now.”

AN HOUR LATER, Simon walked his dad into Paw Pals, still thinking about what his dad had said. “Is Emma here?” he asked Marco.

“No, she’s out. But Alison’s here.”

Simon put Dale in the chair by the big picture window. He was balancing his personal-size pizza and Killer on his lap. “Don’t feed any of that to her.”

“Killer loves pizza.”

“But pizza doesn’t love her.”

Dale smiled. “True. She gets pepperoni farts.” He looked at Killer. “Same, dude. Same.”

Miss Kitty helped herself to a piece of pizza just as Alison peeked out from the back, wearing the exact same glow Ryan had been wearing.

“Where’s Emma?” Simon asked her.

“Don’t you mean ‘hi, cuz, how great to see you’?”

“Yes,” he said. “That. Now where’s Emma?”

“PT with Kelly. And also, you’re stupid.”

“No doubt, but is there any reason in particular?”

“Because you broke things off with Emma under false pretenses. You said she wasn’t ready for a relationship, simply because she wasn’t trying to get her old life back.”

“I know.”

“Simon, she doesn’t want her old life back! Why are us Armstrongs so damn slow? She wants this life, her new life. And you don’t get to decide if that’s good enough.”

“I said I know.”

But Alison was all wound up and still talking. “People change, Simon. And sometimes what looks good to you in the moment won’t look good a year later. You wronged her, and you want to know how I know? Because I did the same thing. I used her as a practice friend. Who does that? Me. I did that to her. I was an asshole. Don’t be me. Emma’s not a practice anything. She’s the real deal, and you know what else? You deserve the real deal too, Simon.”

She was right. Not about him deserving the real deal. That was still up for debate. Nope, she was right that Emma wasn’t a practice anything and she deserved more. And he wanted to be the man to give her that more. “I know, Alison. I know all of it, especially where and how I screwed up.”

“Oh.” She took a breath. “Okay, then. As long as you know.”

“What time was her appointment?”

She glanced at the clock. “She’s probably almost done at PT. I told her to go home after, that I’d close up today. Leave Dale here with me.”

“You sure?”

Alison softened, then hugged him. “Just go fix things with her.” She put a finger in his face. “And don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t.” Or so he hoped.

SIMON DROVE HOME, went straight to the second floor, and knocked at Emma’s door. He felt himself being watched through the peephole and did his best to look like the one thing she couldn’t live without.

She finally opened the door to him, though he had no illusions the battle was won. “Hey,” he said, smiling at just the sight of her. Hog was at her side, his tail going a mile a minute.

Emma was showing nothing, but she also didn’t shut the door on his nose.

He’d take that. “Can we talk?”

She shrugged. “As long as it’s not about your opinion on my life and how I live it.”

He looked her straight in the eyes. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I shouldn’t have said a lot of things. I’m sorry, Emma.”

She stared at him for a long beat, then shifted aside and gestured him in. She wore his wool throw, the one that always was on the back of the couch. He’d never used it, not once, but it’d been in his mom’s cedar chest at the foot of her bed, and he’d kept it. It was one of the few things he had of hers that he’d known she’d loved.

It looked good on Emma, and he wondered what was beneath it. All he could see were her bare feet.

She looked like the rest of his life.

When Simon didn’t move, Emma cocked her head. “You okay?”

“Better now.” And he’d never meant anything more. She was standing close enough to him that he could see the light reflected in her eyes. Her hair was unruly and defiant around her face. She was beautiful, from her vibrant stare to her sexy mouth. Reaching out, he traced her waist to pull her closer.