Page 63 of Sit, Stay

Sophie squeezes my hand. "I know, babe. But staying safe isn't the same as being happy."

Maggie shows up at the clinic at four-thirty with a pie.

Not just any pie. A full, perfect cherry pie with a lattice crust that probably took hours. The kind of pie that says I'm here to meddle but I'm going to be nice about it.

"Intervention pie," I say as she walks through the door.

"Thought you might need some." She sets it on Linda's desk with the kind of authority that makes Linda immediately produce plates and forks. "Got a minute?"

Linda points toward my office. "Exam rooms are clean. Last appointment just left. You're officially off the clock, Doc."

Traitor.

Maggie settles into the chair across from my desk like she owns it, cutting two generous slices of pie and sliding one my way. "Heard you've been having a rough week."

"Let me guess. Sophie called you."

"Sophie texted. Carla called. Your receptionist sent up a flare." She takes a bite of pie, chews thoughtfully. "Whole town's worried about you, honey."

"The whole town needs a hobby."

"You are the hobby." Maggie's smile is gentle. "That's what happens when you live somewhere people actually give a damn."

I stab my fork into the pie. It's perfect, of course. Tart and sweet and exactly what I need even though I didn't ask for it.

"I made the right choice," I say. Not a question. A statement I'm trying to make true through repetition.

"Probably." Maggie cuts another bite. "Question is, are you happy about it?"

"I don't know."

"That's honest, at least." She sets down her fork. "Can I tell you something?"

I nod, because arguing with Maggie feels pointless. She's going to tell me regardless.

"My husband---Sean---he was career Army. Met him when I was twenty-two, married him six months later. Everyone said I was crazy. Said I'd be a widow before I was thirty, that loving a soldier meant learning to grieve." She's quiet for a moment, and there's something raw in her expression. "They were right. Lost him in Afghanistan when I was thirty-four. Twelve years we had together. Twelve years of deployments and missed birthdays and not knowing if he was safe."

"Maggie---"

"But here's the thing." She looks at me. "I wouldn't trade a single day. Not one. Even knowing how it ended. Because those twelve years? Being loved by that man? That was everything."

I can't swallow past the lump in my throat.

"Safe isn't the same as happy, honey." Maggie's voice is gentle. "And you haven't lost anything yet. You're just scared you might."

"He didn't ask, Maggie. He just assumed I'd say yes."

"He did. And that was wrong." She picks up her fork again. "But that boy isn't your ex. Tyler left because you said no. Dean's been holed up at that base for three days probably losing his mind trying to figure out how to fix this."

"How do you know that?"

"Because Javi came in for lunch yesterday and said Dean's been running training drills like a man possessed. Top had to physically remove him from the obstacle course before he hurt himself." Maggie gives me a knowing look. "That's not a man who's moved on. That's a man who's miserable."

Good. He should be miserable.

The thought of Dean miserable makes me want to drive to that base right now.

"I don't know if I can do it," I admit. "Trust someone that much. Leave everything I've built. Start over in a place where I don't know anyone, where I'd be dependent on his family's business, where everything could fall apart if we---if he---"