It was one of those slow, golden-lit afternoons where nothing needed to happen—and that was perfect. Ryan sat on the couch in their cozy Austin home, legs stretched out, phone in hand but barely scrolling. The real scene was a few feet away on the living room floor: Haley, in an oversized sweatshirt and messy bun, lying on her stomach, cheek smushed into the carpet, giggling softly as their dog sprawled out beside her.

Their pup, a fluffy little goofball with way too much personality for his size, kept pawing at Haley’s hand like he was trying to hold it. She looked up at Ryan and grinned. “He’s literally my soulmate.”

“I thought I was your soulmate,” Ryan called out, pretending to be offended.

“You are,” she said, petting the dog. “He’s just the fluffier one.”

Ryan shook his head, laughing, before setting his phone down and walking over to plop next to them on the floor. “Alright, I’m crashing the cuddle party.”

The dog immediately climbed onto Ryan’s back like it was a jungle gym, tail wagging wildly. Haley laughed so hard she almost cried. “Okay but why does he always pick you for the chaos?”

“Because he knows I have no boundaries,” Ryan said, letting the dog climb all over him. “Also, he senses I was once a child with way too much energy and no impulse control.”