“Of course it’s not.” Spencer sank to the recliner nearest the couch, suddenly so weary that he could no longer remain standing. “Our whole lives, everyone has liked you better than me. Hell, I like you better than me. It doesn’t matter what you do or how bad you mess up. The doors always stay open.”

“Spencer. Are you being an idiot on purpose?”

“What? It’s true. Do you know the first thing Mom asks anytime I visit her? ‘How’s Caleb?’ ‘What’s Caleb up to?’ ‘Why didn’t you bring Caleb along?’” He shook his head. “She couldn’t care less whether or not I’m there. I’m only valuable as a conduit to you.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“People light up when you walk into a room,” Spencer continued. “It never used to bother me—not really, not in any way that mattered. I mean, it was annoying, obviously, but that was fine. You could be the shiny twin, the happy twin, the better-looking twin. I didn’t need any of that. I had my work and my dog show. I had Eva and Maury and Lawson.”

“You still have all those things,” Caleb pointed out.

He wasn’t wrong. Spencer did have all those things, and there was a good chance he always would. His friends had always been there for him, and the world would always need veterinarians. His place in life—at least on the surface—was secure. And had he never met Ruby, it might have been enough. He could have continued along in his narrow little world, content with how small it was, how rigid, never knowing what lay outside the duct-taped line he’d put around his heart.

But he had met her, and he’d fallen in love with her, and the duct-taped line around his heart was as useless as the one on his living room floor.

“She doesn’t want anything to do with me,” Spencer said, his voice cracking. He didn’t say who the she in question was, but there was no need. “I told her I didn’t care about her stupid job or Wheezy’s stupid papers, that I’d throw the whole damn dog show out the window if it would make her happy. I offered her everything I have, and she just…quit.”

“She quit.”

“Yes.”

“Ruby quit.”

“Caleb, now’s not the time to mess with me. Can’t you tell I’m barely holding on here?”

Apparently, he couldn’t. “Ruby quit,” Caleb said again, this time emphasizing her name. “The same Ruby who’s haunted this place for two months? The same Ruby who drags an unwilling dog on a three-mile walk every day? The same Ruby who built a stage in the backyard and watched every single Westminster Dog Show recording in existence?”

That last one caught Spencer’s interest. “She watched all of them?”