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This is the second time she's mentioned having anxiety. I assumed before she was just stressed about our situation but maybe it’s something more. Since I don't understand, and now doesn't feel like the appropriate time to ask, I just place my hand on the small of her back. “Well if that's the one you like, that's the one we’ll get.”

“Miles, it's too much.”

“Nothing is too much for you.” Her eyes meet mine and I can almost feel my own pupils dilating. What the fuck am I saying and why do I keep saying it out loud? Still, I don’t take my eyes off her. Never let them see you sweat, right? “We’ll need a band as well.”

“I have a moonstone band too, that could look nice together,” she teases me.

“What kind of stone don't you have?”

We share a smile and I look at the sales manager who is now fighting a look of amusement and confusion as I realize all of this is the trivial stuff people who are actually married would already know about each other.

Thankfully I’m paying him enough that he doesn't question anything and instead heads to the back to grab the matching wedding band.

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“What kind of ring are we getting you?”

“I picked mine out almost quicker than you.”

She gives me a smile and I realize I would do anything to be on the receiving end of her smile.

“I didn’t anticipatethat being so quick. I’ll have to call Wills. It might take him some time to get back since I sent him out for the afternoon.”

“Okay. Do you want me to wait with you?”

My brows tug together. “Were you planning on going somewhere else?”

Her mouth twists in a sheepish smile, “Well… I saw a dog adoption event going on about two blocks down on my way here.”

“A dog adoption…”

“Yeah. Do you want to come?”

“Why would I want to go to a dog adoption?”

“To see all the sweet babies, and give them some love. Who knows, maybe you’ll fall in love.”

Something about the excitement on her face doesn't allow me to tell her that will never happen.

“I don't even like dogs.”

Her mouth falls open and her eyes widen. “What? What do you mean you don’t like dogs?”

I shrug and hold out my arm for her to lead the way. I might not care for animals but I’m finding I’ll do anything to spend time with Camila.

“Oh my god,” Camila squeals, bending over a short wire fence to pick up some kind of small brown dog with wavy hair. “Oh my god Miles, look at her! Have you ever seen anything so cute in your life?” She holds the dog close to her chest like a newborn baby in one arm and rubs the top of her head with the tips of her fingers.

I heave a sigh and look around the park, there's about eight pens set up all with different dogs in each one. And all of this is from the same rescue. How can this be? How are there so many dogs out here without a home?

“Oh my gosh, you are the sweetest thing. You’re going to go to a wonderful home so soon. I just know it. Yes, you are.” She nuzzles the dog before putting her back down on the other side of the waist-high fence.

“Okay, seriously, how can you not like dogs?” Camila walks beside me through the rest of the park.

“I mean I’m not a serial killer, it’s not like if I saw one in the street I wouldkick it or anything, but I also wouldn't pet it, and I’ve never had a desire to have one either.”

She gives a disbelieving shake of her head. “I always wanted a dog when I was growing up.”