Page 45 of The Billionaire's Pawfect Match

Emily beams at me, and I can’t help but reflect it back at her. “You’re incredible, you know that? You’ve done so much for us already.”

“Anything for a good cause,” I say, but there’s more truth in those words than I care to examine right now. Because this cause —hercause — has become mine, too.

Baxter stirs then, chasing something in his dreams. The sight of him, so content and carefree, reminds me of why I’m here, atop a mountain with a woman who’s turned my life upside down in the best possible way.

“Hey,” Emily says softly, drawing my attention back to her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this… content. It suits you.”

“Maybe I’m starting to realize there’s more to life than work and deadlines,” I admit, allowing myself to lean into the vulnerability she always seems to draw out of me. It’s a strange feeling, laying bare parts of myself I’ve kept hidden for so long.

“Good,” she says. “Because the man I see now, he deserves to smile. Every day.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so instead I just sit here and soak in the kindness. Maybe she’s right, though smiling and enjoying each day has never been a priority to me. It’s alwaysbeen about proving myself — to my father, to my colleagues, to clients, to the world. I’m growing tired of that, though.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I murmur, not just about the view but everything — this moment of serenity, the woman by my side, the dog that’s somehow become part of my soul.

“Absolutely,” she agrees, her voice soft like the breeze whispering through the leaves around us. “Have you hiked much?”

“No… We weren’t an outdoorsy family.” I smirk. “My father was usually working when I was a kid, and I spent a lot of time with my nanny. She took me to sports practices… tutoring… watched me and my friends swim in the pool at the house.”

“Oh.”

I glance at her, and it seems she’s trying to hide something in her face. “What?”

“It sounds… good.”

“It’s okay. You can say it. It sucks that my dad didn’t spend more time with me. He was always… distant.” The admission hits a nerve, as if saying it aloud gives the pain form and shape. “Work came first. Always. I guess that’s where I learned it from.”

She nods, just watching me. Her silence is an invitation to continue, to spill secrets I’ve held on to for too long.

“I tried to get his attention,” I confess. “I worked hard, pushed myself. I thought if the company thrived, he’d… see me.”

“Did he?” she asks, the question simple yet loaded with expectation and hope.

“Rarely,” I say, a bitter laugh escaping me. “Even to the end, he needed proof I could handle it all. That’s why he left me Baxter.” I gesture toward our sleeping dog. “Dad knew I wanted the company. But he made me earn it, even in death.”

“Isaac…” Emily’s hand finds mine, her fingers intertwining with mine in a grip that steadies me.

“Truth is,” I continue, feeling the dam inside me crumble, “I resented him for it. For making it so damn hard when all I wanted was his approval.”

“Yet, you did it. You proved him wrong,” she says, her thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand.

“Proved him right, more like. I hung onto Baxter.” My voice cracks a bit. “But it wasn’t because of the company. It was at first, but then… not anymore.”

“Because of?”

“Because of you.” I turn to face her more fully. “You showed me what it means to care for something beyond my image and name. You taught me how to love this dog.”

“Isaac, I—” she starts, but I can see the uncertainty in her eyes.

“Emily.” I squeeze her hand, needing her to understand. “I’m not just keeping Baxter so I can hang onto the company. I love that dog. And it’s thanks to you.”

She studies my face, searching for the truth in my words. I hold her gaze, laying bare the honesty of my emotions. Slowly, a smile blooms on her lips, a silent acknowledgment that she believes me.

“Okay,” she breathes, and relief washes over me like the gentle lap of waves against the shore.

“Your father,” she begins, her voice gentle yet hesitant, and I can tell she’s about to say something she thinks I might not like. “Maybe he did you a favor without realizing it. These past weeks, they’ve been different for you, haven’t they?”

I nod, the weight of her observation heavy in my chest. “Different,” I echo. “Sure.”

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