Page 47 of Ruined Vows
His inquisitive eyes turn to me.
“I started volunteering with this shelter a year ago,” I say nervously. He’s so intense, I almost forget to breathe. “They were underfunded, understaffed, and barely scraping by. I walked in one day to donate supplies and left three hours later with a volunteer shirt and a list of dogs that needed walking.”
He looks at me quietly. His eyes show compassion.
Damn him.
I’m not sure why I’m jittery, but we continue walking.
“There’s something about this place,” I say. “The way the dogs continue to love even though they’ve been left behind. The animals, the people… It’s heartbreaking. It's messy. It can be loud. But it’s important to me. It’s a worthy cause.”
Oh, God, I sound like a commercial. Why am I rambling like an idiot?
We stop near a pen with a small, older mutt that is sleeping in the corner. He cracks an eye when he hears us.
“That’s Meatball,” I murmur, and I kneel, putting my fingers to the fence. Meatball leaps to his feet and comes over, tail wagging. “He was dumped in the middle of a hurricane. He hates loud noises.”
He watches him like he matters.
“He still flinches if you move too fast. But he lets me sit with him, and he’s sweet. Once he gets to know you, he’s fine. It was slow at first, but it’s still progress.”
There’s a beat of silence. Then he says, “You see them.”
I glance up.
“You don’t just rescue them,” he adds. “You recognize them, y’know. Their journey in life.”
My throat tightens. He’s intense. He sees things I haven’t articulated. But he’s right.
I didn’t expect him to be so deep. And this adds another layer to him.
I cross my arms because being defensive is my go-to in situations that make me vulnerable.
“Why are you really here, Vukan?”
His gaze doesn’t waver. “Because you love this,” he says. “And I needed to see it.”
The answer hits harder than I want it to. He knows how to pack a punch, and not only in the gym.
Because it’s not charming here, it’s downright heartbreaking. And I know what he says isn’t a ploy. He’s beinghonest.
And suddenly I realize that this man, who could ownanything,wanted to witness something he couldn’t touch, or buy—only feel.
He wanted to see me in a space he didn’t build.
He came to me, a place where I’m comfortable.
And I think that melts me more than anything else.
Later, after I’ve decompressed at home, I get a call from the Chairman of the Adopt a Pet campaign. He informs me that a substantial donation was made in my name.
The donation was anonymous, but he thought I’d want to know that my involvement raised money for the cause. And he thanked me.
Vukan.
My eyes mist. How does he know me so well? Perhaps we have more in common than I thought. This is a side to him that I didn’t know existed. It makes him…human.
He has a heart. And maybe all the sweet things he says to me aren’t just ploys to soften me up, and that he does care about me. Is it possible that he wants me?
