Chapter 1

My boyfriend and my best friend come up with a little game during our road trip with my dog.

We run in different directions to see which of us Bowie will choose.

Whoever he runs to wins.

We play ten rounds.

Ryan and Sophie win five times each.

But Bowie—the Border Collie I've raised for five years—doesn't choose me even once.

Ryan and Sophie excitedly high-five each other, then hug Bowie together as his tail wags like crazy.

“Bowie likes us best,” Sophie says proudly. “Guess he doesn't recognize you as his mom anymore.”

Ryan laughs too.

“Even a dog doesn't want to come to you. That says a lot about you.”

I stare at them.

Then I remember what happened before we left.

Ryan replaced the toy I'd carefully picked out for Bowie with one Sophie had bought.

“Your taste sucks,” he said. “Sophie’s looks way better.”

And throughout the trip, he always ends up handing Bowie's leash to Sophie.

Sophie gets all the fun stuff—playing with Bowie, feeding him treats, spoiling him.

I get the rest: disciplining Bowie and cleaning up after him.

Bowie's choice is shaped by the people around him.

And now I know exactly where they stand.

Turns out, I'm just the outsider in my own relationship, stuck with the cleanup.

I take a step toward Bowie.

His tail immediately drops between his legs.

He drops low and starts barking at me.

Bowie suddenly jerks in Sophie's arms, knocking her to the ground.

Ryan rushes to steady her.

Then he turns on me instead of correcting the barking dog.

“Don't come any closer. What if Bowie hurts Sophie?”

The second Ryan says it, Bowie backs down.

His ears droop, and he moves over to nuzzle up to Sophie.

I stand there, unable to understand how Bowie could've changed so much.

He used to be glued to me.

He was sweet, well-behaved, and never barked at people for no reason.

But after my leg injury forced me to leave him with Sophie for two months, everything changed.

Bowie started avoiding me. He didn't want me near him anymore. He'd rather be with Sophie.

Sophie throws a frisbee, and Bowie bolts after it, thrilled.

She laughs. “That's my boy! You're the best, Bowie!”

Ryan stands nearby, taking pictures of Sophie and Bowie together.

And suddenly, it hits me.

It's not just Bowie.

My boyfriend and my best friend are both drifting away from me.

Just like that, the excitement drains right out of me.

I sit down on a rock and stare at a speck of dirt on my sneaker, zoning out.

After a while, Ryan comes over.

“Are you upset?”

“It was just a joke, babe.Don't take it so seriously.”

My eyes sting with tears.

Ryan can always read my moods.

One look and he knows if I'm tired, sick, hungry.

After all these years, he's never once missed it.

I nod.

I'm about to tell him everything—about Bowie, and about how much it's been hurting me.

"Ryan!" Sophie calls from the trees.

He shoots up like a reflex. Then pulls me up too.

"Stop pouting, okay? Bowie just pooped over there. Go clean it up."

The warmth in my chest dies instantly.

The sweet-talk wasn't for me. It was to get me to do a chore.

I dig my heels in.

"I'm not going. He doesn't even like me. Why should I?"

Ryan ruffles my hair—the gesture affectionate, the words sharp.

"Still mad? Since when are you this petty?"