“Whoa, whoa. What is this?” Maggie’s eyes bulge as Duke charges easily into the space.

“This is Ryan’s dog.”

“Come again?”

“His name is Duke and he and Ryan are staying with me for the next few days.”

“We don’t talk for one day and this is what happens? Wait, did you ride over here?”

“No, though I did try. Duke was pumped to get in the basket but there’s no way it was strong enough to hold him. My life flashed before my eyes after going ten feet.”

Maggie shuts the door behind us as I give her the abbreviated version of the last twenty-four hours. I’ve just finished and am leaning down to unhook Duke’s leash when he begins to pant at an alarming rate.

“Is he okay?” Maggie asks.

I squat in front of him, petting his neck and back in soothing strokes as I try to calm him down. “Maybe he’s not used to going up four flights of stairs after a long walk. I know he goes outside a fair bit, but I don’t know how far he usually goes.” Duke is still huffing and puffing as I nervously pet him faster. “It’s okay,” I coo. “Let’s just relax. Everything’s all right.”

“He looks like he’s having a heart attack. Do dogs have heart attacks?”

“Just get him some water before he passes out.”

Maggie scurries into the kitchen and starts swinging open cabinets. “I swear, Kara, if that animal drops dead in my apartment I will never forgive you.”

“He’ll be fine. He’s just not the most athletic guy in the world.”

Maggie sets a large bowl of water onto the floor and I keep petting Duke as he drinks it down. His breathing evens out and a minute later, he sets off on the prowl. I follow his path until he settles into the bathroom, sprawling out and looking spent. Confident that he’s now okay, I cross the room to plop down at a bar stool beside Maggie’s tiny kitchen island as she falls back onto her couch.

“Well,” she says, “you two certainly know how to make an entrance. Is life always this eventful over in the love nest?”

I pause before answering. “It’s okay, I guess.”

“I refuse to believe that you came all the way over here with no good stories. You’re not that cruel.”

“I just feel strange talking about this.”

“If you’re worried about being strange, you’re about five minutes and one obese bulldog too late.”

“Fair enough. I think...” I take a deep breath and let it all rip. “I think I might still have feelings for Ryan and I don’t want to and I need you to help me make it stop.” The words spill out of my mouth like a quick-flowing stream and Maggie stares back at me, completely deadpan.