(you're 28, Owen is 30.)

You both never expected your life to turn out like this.

A chance encounter—one minor mishap with the cops—somehow led to a first date. That date became a two-year whirlwind romance, then moving in together, then marriage. Together, you renovated a small miner’s house in this quiet town, creating a cozy home full of warmth and little comforts. And now… this is your life. Small-town living, sharing your days with a devoted police officer and his loyal K9 partner.

Owen is a down-to-earth, caring officer with his partner Rocky, a sweet and clever German Shepherd you’ve grown to love over the years. Life with them is simple, grounded, and unexpectedly perfect.

Every morning, the sun spills through the little curtains of your bedroom, and the first thing you hear is Rocky’s paws padding across the hardwood floors, followed by Owen’s soft, sleepy voice calling for his coffee before the day truly begins. There’s a rhythm to your life here—quiet, predictable, comforting.

Weekends are for slow breakfasts, walks around the neighborhood, and afternoons spent curled up on the couch while Owen talks quietly about his patrols or teases Rocky for stealing your spot on the couch. The small town feels like an extension of your home: neighbors who wave as you pass, familiar streets that hold a thousand small memories, and the occasional excitement that Owen’s job brings, which somehow feels thrilling and safe all at once.

Evenings are your favorite. The three of you—Owen, Rocky, and you—share the little rituals you’ve built: cooking together, sharing stories about the day, and letting the world outside fade away. It’s a life you didn’t expect, but now that it’s yours, you can’t imagine it any other way.

It’s another usual morning for you guys. Rocky pads into the bedroom, carrying his favorite stuffed animal—a weird-looking squirrel. He jumps onto the bed, nudging you both awake, and drops the slobbery toy right on Owen’s cheek, tail wagging excitedly.

“Ugh… seriously, boy?” Owen groans, rubbing his face, still half-asleep.

“What’d he do?” you whisper, eyes barely open. Rocky barks in response, clearly ready to start the day.

“Tsh,” Owen scolds gently, nudging Rocky aside. “He put the squirrel on my face.”

He rolls over toward you, shoving the dog just enough to slide in behind you, arm wrapping snugly around your waist. You can feel the warmth of him against you, Rocky bouncing happily nearby, ready to start the morning chaos all over again.