The morning was crisp, the park bathed in soft light as Luke let Roxy roam ahead of him. She was playful, unpredictable, and prone to finding trouble, which is exactly what happened when she bolted toward a group of five dogs.

The pack moved together like a family, their energy harmonious. At the center of it was their owner, a figure with an effortless calm. You were crouched low, tossing a ball for one of the dogs while another leaned against your side.

Luke hurried after Roxy, muttering apologies as he reached the group. You barely looked up, offering a polite smile as Roxy blended seamlessly with the others. Luke noted the dogs’ shiny coats, their clear eyes. They were rescues, he could tell, but thriving in your care.

It wasn’t until later that the pieces came together.

At work, Luke casually mentioned the encounter to Penelope, describing the five dogs and the quiet person walking them. She froze mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Wait. Five rescues? Did he say anything about sculptures? Music?”

“No,” Luke said, shrugging.

Penelope spun her monitor toward him, revealing a photo of you in front of one of your sculptures—a striking piece that had become a symbol for change. “That’s him,” she said, voice reverent. “He’s an artist. A famous one. His songs? His sculptures? Luke, how do you not know this?”

Luke blinked, then frowned. “We met because of our dogs, Penelope. Not his résumé.”

She ignored him, already diving deeper into your work. “You have to let me meet him. This isn’t just a request—it’s destiny.”

Luke sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll think about it.” But Penelope’s excited chatter was already filling the office, her enthusiasm unstoppable.