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I give him a raised eyebrow look and download an app that looks right for us. I try to sign up to pay for the extra services, but he takes that option away with a glare. It was his idea, so I don’t pay.

I make it a game, tagging locations and naming them ridiculous things. My shop is now theraccoon hideout, and my apartment is theraccoon den. He adds his address with a subtle but pointed look. He titles itI’m waiting. I rename ithostage locationin retaliation. He never should have made me an admin.

I make my image a raccoon and try to convince Poe to make his a dumpster. Instead, he chooses a cane corso. A big, fierce-bodied black dog that should have a mean face, but it’s all smiles with a lolling tongue. It makes me laugh to picture such an aggressive-looking animal being a lap dog.

By the time he has to leave to pack, he’s a lot more comfortable.

“You be safe,” I insist while we stand in front of the shop. “Text me whenever you feel like it. Let me know you got there safe, so I don’t scare myself. Name the hotel the depression station.”

Poe’s gentle smile becomes a happy grin at my list of demands.

“I will.” Two words cover everything I’ve told him to do.

“You better,” I mutter and give him another kiss.

He turns away from me, his grin giddy. I stand there, watching him walk away. He looks back twice, which makes my heart flutter. I blow him a kiss when he drives by. As soon as he’s around the corner, I open the app and send him a poke. I hope it vibrates his butt.

His request may have started off concerning, but we turned it around. It doesn’t have to be scary if you don’t want it to be. Instead of stalking each other, we put a pretty bow on it and call it concern for one another. Who cares who judges it?

I hope that mindset continues throughout my life.

Chapter Seven

Adelaide

I wake up to a photo from Poe.

My raccoon plush is sitting at a table with a sweet roll on a plate in front of it. I burst into laughter at the sight.

Me: Two helpings. Don’t be stingy.

The photos continue throughout the day, delighting me. He must be dragging it everywhere. There’s a picture of a cab ride with it looking out the window. Sitting in a chair with a couple of makeup people fussing over it. Sitting at lunch with several people working on the crew. They’re all facing the stuffed animal like it’s telling a great story. People pose with it, making all sorts of faces for the camera. A male model cuddles it, peeking over its face as if they’re in an embrace.

Picturing stoic Poe convincing people to do this just for me has me rolling with laughter. They must think he’s completely lost it.

They’re hilarious and keep me from feeling abandoned while he’s out working. It doesn’t help that no one comes into the shop to distract me. Damon took the day off to meet someone important to Grace.

I’m all alone, and my stuffed raccoon is living a great life without me. I’m pouting as much as I’m laughing.

I close the shop early and pick up dinner. After a debate, I take a picture of it with two plates set out, one full and the other as empty as the chair behind it. It’s the only photo I’ve taken in return. How sad is my life that this is a pity picture?

Me: I miss you.

Before I can second-guess, I’ve sent it to Poe. Then I sweat as I overthink it. He’s busy. There have been models all around him all day. The picture is pathetic. Why would he miss me, too?

My phone beeps with a return text, making me wince.

It’s a photo of the raccoon with a bottle of wine propped up against its side. There’s a glass half empty next to it. For some reason, it seems sad, as if it’s lonely, too. Drinking alone and staring at nothing.

Poetry: We miss you too.

It makes my heart burst with happiness. It looks like he’s back in his hotel room, having as lonely a dinner as I am. There’s no hesitation when I call him.

“Hi, siren,” he answers before the first ring finishes.

“Hi, yappy. I’m collecting all of these photos to use so I can win back custody,” I tease, playing with my fork.

“Oh? I’veadoptedRacer now?” He chuckles.