Page 63 of The Route to You

A dog.

He stood a few yards off the road. Medium-sized and scruffy—a mutt of some kind—with matted black and tawny fur. “Oh.” Her stomach dipped. “Kyle . . .”

He pulled over carefully, hazards clicking on. “Yeah. I see it.”

Cold hit her immediately when she tugged her hat and coat on and opened the door. The wind carried snow in thin, stinging sheets across the empty highway.

The dog didn’t take off, but it didn’t come closer, either. One leg held awkwardly, trembling with the effort of staying upright.

“Oh no,” Sloan breathed, already crouching. “Hey, sweetheart . . . it’s okay. You can come here. It’s okay.”

The dog hesitated, ears back, and took a limping step toward her.

Her chest tightened painfully.

“Who leaves a dog out here?” she asked, anger slipping into her voice before she could stop it.

Kyle crouched beside her. “Some miserable fucker who shouldn’t be allowed to have one.”

He held out his hand, a Dorito chip extended. The dog sniffed it, then took it from Kyle, ears falling flat. He whined, chewing, then leaned into Kyle’s outstretched hand like he’d been holding himself together by will alone.

Sloan swallowed hard. “His leg . . .”

“Yeah. Not broken, I don’t think. But he’s hurting. And he’s exhausted.”

She looked at Kyle.

He didn’t hesitate. “We’re not leaving him.”

Relief rushed through her so fast it made her eyes sting. “Thank you.”

They worked together without really talking about it—Kyle grabbing one of his shirts from the back, Sloan keeping her voice low and calm, coaxing the dog closer. He let them lift him, a yelp and whine leaving his throat as Kyle touched his leg. He didn’t bite or snap, though.

They settled him into the back seat, and he curled into the shirt almost immediately, tail giving a weak, uncertain thump.

Sloan closed the door gently and stood there for a second, staring at the snow swirling around them, her heart still pounding.

“This is not how I pictured today going,” she said.

Kyle smiled faintly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Road trips are big on character development.”

She looked back through the window at the dog. He was so sweet. Desperately in need of a trim and a bath, but beautiful. “I just don’t get it,” she said, her voice cracking. “I don’t understand how someone can betray an innocent creature like that. How can someone just dump a dog on the highway like this? How can someone be so selfish?”

Her shoulders started shaking, emotions climbing higher, her lungs hurting with each gasped breath.

“Hey,” Kyle said, reaching out and grasping her shoulder. “Hey. It’s going to be okay.”

“But it’s not okay, Kyle, don’t you see that?” She turned toward him, something in her splitting hard. “Dogs are so loyal. He didn’t deserve to be disposed of like this.” A tear slid down her cheek, and she dashed it away.

Then, with the snow swirling around them and the engine idling beside them, reality hit her hard at last.

And she broke.

She didn’t really see Kyle slip his arms around her as the tears fell. She just buried her face against the soft fabric of his coat, her shoulders shaking with everything she’d held back the last two days.

Because no matter how loyal she’d been, no matter how much she’d loved Evan, he’d betrayed her, too. Disposed of her, really.

He might not have dumped her out in the middle of a Wyoming highway, but she was still here, lost and afraid, and unsure of everything in her future, all because he couldn’t honor the commitment he’d made to her.