Page 45 of Daddy's Naughty Dog Trainer

By the time we leave Ethan's room, all three of us, Sean, Lucky, and I, seem emotionally drained but fulfilled in a way that's hard to articulate. Lucky walks a little slower, as if sensing the importance of what he's just done.

"You two were amazing," Liz tells us as she walks us back to the elevator. "Some of our veteran therapy teams don't connect that well with the kids. You have a natural touch."

"It's all Lucky," Sean demurs, but his hand finds mine, squeezing gently.

"We'd love to put you on the regular rotation," Liz continues. "Twice a month, if that works with your schedule."

"Absolutely," I answer for both of us. "We'd be honored."

In the car, Lucky curls up in the backseat. Sean is quieter than usual as he drives, his expression thoughtful.

"You okay?" I ask, reaching across to touch his arm.

He nods, covering my hand with his. "Just thinking about Diane. About how much she would have loved seeing Lucky today."

"She would have been so proud," I say softly. "Of both of you."

Sean pulls into a small park near our neighborhood, putting the car in park but leaving the engine running. He turns to face me, his expression open and vulnerable in a way that still surprises me sometimes.

"I've been thinking a lot lately," he begins, "about how we got here. About all the little choices and chances that led to this moment."

"Like what?" I prompt, recognizing the reflective mood that sometimes takes him.

"Like Diane adopting Lucky. Like her getting sick so quickly. Like me inheriting a dog I had no idea how to handle." His eyes meet mine, warm and full of emotion. "Like finding your name when I was desperately searching for a dog trainer."

My heart swells at the memory of our first meeting, me with my pink hair and professional skepticism, him with his structured life being systematically destroyed by a golden retriever puppy.

"It's like she orchestrated the whole thing," Sean continues, his voice soft with wonder. "Diane. She always said I neededmore chaos in my life, more color. She worried about me being alone, too focused on work."

"She sounds very wise," I say, reaching up to touch his face gently.

"She was." He turns his head to press a kiss to my palm. "And I think... I think she'd be happy about this. About us. About seeing Lucky bringing joy to those kids today."

"I think so too."

Sean takes a deep breath. "I've never believed in fate or destiny or any of that. I'm a man of logic, of plans."

"You don't say," I tease gently.

He smiles, acknowledging the jab. "But sometimes, Jessica, I look at you and Lucky and now Clover, at this life we're building, and I can't help thinking that some things are meant to be. That Diane knew exactly what she was doing when she gave me Lucky."

The naked emotion in his voice brings tears to my eyes. "Sean..."

"I am, without question, the luckiest man in the world," he says, taking both my hands in his. "And I have been since the day you walked into my house with your pink hair and attitude, turned everything upside down, and somehow made it better than it was before."

"You're going to make me cry," I warn, blinking rapidly.

"Good," he says, not at all apologetic. "Because what I'm about to say next will probably make it worse."

My heart skips a beat as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. "Sean..."

"I had a whole plan," he admits, turning the box over in his hands. "Dinner at that fancy restaurant downtown next week. Champagne. The perfect speech, rehearsed and timed to the second."

"Of course you did," I laugh through my gathering tears.

"But today, watching you with those kids, with Lucky... it just felt right to do it now. Here. With no script or plan." He opens the box, revealing a stunning ring, a flawless pink sapphire surrounded by diamonds, elegant and unique. "Jessica Wright, will you marry me?"

The tears spill over as I look from the ring to his face, seeing all the love and hope and vulnerability there. "Yes," I whisper, then louder: "Yes, absolutely yes."

His smile is radiant as he slips the ring onto my finger. "I love you," he says simply. "More than I ever thought possible."

"I love you too," I reply, leaning across the console to kiss him. "Even your spreadsheets and schedules."

He laughs against my lips. "And I love your chaos and pink hair and complete disregard for punctuality."

From the backseat, Lucky lets out a soft woof, as if adding his approval to the proceedings.

I am the luckiest woman in the world.

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