Chapter 19: Corbin - Purrfect Valentine

My lungs were on fire. My legs had stopped screaming somewhere around mile two and graduated to full-on mutiny, and the leather loafers I’d stupidly worn because Andi liked them had rubbed blisters into both heels that I could feel bleeding with every stride. But I kept running, because somewhere in that pastel nightmare of a town was a woman I’d been too chickenshit to choose, and a kitten who needed her cat dad to bring her home.

But first…

Heart & Paws Veterinary Clinic materialized through my sweat-blurred vision, and I nearly face-planted on the front steps. The bell chimed cheerfully as I burst through the door—a personal insult given that I looked like I’d crawled out of a dumpster.

Denise looked up from behind the front desk. I watched her expression cycle through alarm, recognition, and something uncomfortably close to pity.

“Mr. Wright? Are you okay? You look⁠—”

“Where’s Ally?”

Her mouth opened. Closed. “Dr. Vanderspelt isn’t in today. She called in sick this morning.”

Sick.

Ally didn’t call in sick. Ally showed up at two in the morning to save dying animals. Ally worked through emergencies and forgot to eat and still found the energy to save lives.

Ally called in sick because I’d gutted her.

“Is she home?” My voice came out raw.

“That’d be my guess.”

“Thanks.”

I was out the door before she could respond.

Cupid’s Cat Café came into view, a lighthouse in the storm. It felt familiar now. The bell chimed as I pushed through the door.

“Be right there.” Bev emerged from the back, and I watched the smile die on her face the second she got a good look at me. “Holy shit, Superman. What happened to you?”

“Did you run here?” Wim asked, appearing behind her with a coffee pot in hand. “Sit down before you collapse.”

“I can’t.” My chest was heaving. I braced my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. “Where’s…my…cat?”

They exchanged one of their looks before wide smiles crossed over their faces.

“Back room,” Bev said. “We were about to take her to the clinic for her shot. Figured you’d be halfway to the city by now with that—” She stopped herself. “With your fiancée.”

“She’s not my fiancée. Sh-she’s gone. I told her… to leave and.. forget me,” I continued to pant, struggling to breathe with the lack of damn oxygen. "And then I ran back here because I’m a fucking idiot… who should have done that… the second she walked into this café.” I forced myself to take as deep a breath as I could manage in the silence that followed.

Wim set down the coffee pot and disappeared into the back room without a word.

I heard her before I saw her—a hiss and then a yowl. Wim emerged carrying Muffy, and the second those blue eyes locked onto my face, she lost her goddamn mind.

She twisted in Wim’s arms, claws scrabbling, mewing the entire time. Wim barely got her halfway across the café before Muffy launched herself at me, and I caught her against my chest on instinct.

“Hey.” My voice cracked. “Hey, Muff. I’m here. I’m so sorry, baby.”

She climbed me, claws hooking through my sweater, my jacket, anything she could grab. She pressed her face into my neck—right against my pulse, right where she’d burrowed from the beginning, and the sounds she was making weren’t angry anymore. They were relieved.

I held her tighter than I should have, and she squeaked, but didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m not leaving again,” I told her. “I promise. We’re staying.”

Her purr kicked in, and something in my chest unclenched for the first time since I’d walked out of this café. The damn cat had my heart wrapped around that fluffy white tail.

When I looked up, Bev and Wim were watching me with grins and moist eyes.

“I’m sorry, Wim, but I need to borrow the bike,” I said. “And I need—I have to find Ally. She’s not at the clinic, and I don’t—I fucked up. I messed up so badly, and I need to fix it.”

“Damn right you did.” Bev crossed her arms, but something in her face had softened. “That girl came in here this morning looking like someone had ripped her heart out and stomped on it. Bought three chocolate croissants and didn’t even finish one.”

Guilt twisted deeper.

“I know.” I tucked Muffy more securely against my chest. She was still purring, still kneading her paws against my shirt to make sure I was real. “I know I hurt her. I know I don’t deserve another chance. But I have to try.”

Wim was already wheeling out the powder-blue bike. She parked it in front of me without comment.

“She’s probably at home,” Wim said.

“I know.”

“Then go.” She pressed the handlebars into my free hand. “And Kent?”

I looked up.

“Don’t screw this up.” Her voice was gentle, but her eyes were sharp. “Dissolving a body as big as yours takes more time than Bev and I have.”

For a second, I stared at her, and before I could stop myself, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her.

“Thank you,” I said against her neck. When I pulled back, she was smiling again, and Bev tugged me into a hug next.

“Now get your ass on that bike and ride,” Bev said when she let me go.

“Go get your girl, Superman,” Wim added, taking her place next to Bev.

The bike ride across town was a blur of burning thighs and cold air and Muffy’s claws pricking through my shirt every time I hit a pothole. She’d settled into her usual spot against my chest, tucked inside my jacket with her head poking out of the collar like a tiny furry scarf.

I stopped three times.

First, the place on the corner for chicken soup—homemade, because Ally forgot to eat too often for my liking.

Second, the deli for a sandwich. For me, since I hadn’t eaten anything today.

Third, Petals & Thorns.

The florist looked up when I stumbled through the door and immediately started assembling a bouquet without asking what I wanted.

“For Dr. Vanderspelt?”

“How did you⁠—”

“Honey.” She tied off the ribbon. “You’re the grumpy cat man. The whole town’s been placing bets on when you’d pull your head out of your ass.”

I paid too much and didn’t argue.

The sandwich bounced out of the bike basket somewhere along Valentine’s Lane. I watched it disappear under a decorative hedge and kept pedaling. I’d eat later.

Ally’s house came into view. I dropped the bike on the front lawn and took the porch steps two at a time, clutching the flowers and soup as if they could somehow make up for everything I’d done wrong.

The barking started before I knocked.

Through the frosted glass, shapes moved—big ones, small ones, one massive shadow that had to be Bernie. I knocked anyway, three sharp raps that set off a fresh wave of canine hysteria.

No footsteps. No Ally.

I tried the spare key spot—the loose board at the edge of the porch where she’d shown me the hide-a-key during my second day here. My fingers found empty space. She’d moved it.

Of course she had. Why would she leave a key where the man who’d abandoned her could find it?

I knocked again, harder this time. “Ally? It’s Corbin.” I stopped. She wasn’t home. The house had that empty feeling, that particular silence underneath the barking. “Shit.”

I put the soup on the small table along with the flowers and pulled out my phone. I called her. It rang once, twice, three times, four⁠—

Voicemail. Her voice, warm and professional: “Hey, you’ve reached Dr. Ally Vanderspelt. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

I hung up. Tried again. Voicemail.

“Come on.” I was pacing now, back and forth across her small porch. Muffy had gone quiet inside my jacket. “Pick up. Please pick up.”

Third try. Fourth. Fifth.

Voicemail every time.

I finally decided to leave one.

“Ally.” I pressed my forehead against the cold wood of her door, phone still clutched in my hand. “I know you’re screening. I know you probably never want to talk to me again, and I get it. I do. But I need you to know⁠—”

My voice cracked. I took a breath and kept going, talking to her voicemail like she could hear me. Like she was actually standing there with me.

“I’m staying. I’m not leaving. Andi’s gone—I told her to leave, and I meant it. I’m keeping Muffy. I’m staying in Cupid Corner.” The words tumbled out. “I love you. I should have said that when she walked into the café. I should have said ‘this is Ally, and I love her,’ but I froze, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Muffy chirped from inside my jacket.

I tried calling one more time, watching through the frosted glass as the dogs continued their chaos inside the empty house.

Ringing. Ringing. Ring⁠—

A ringtone chirped behind me.

“I’m walking on sunshine, woooah...”

I spun around so fast I nearly fell off the porch.

Ally stood at the bottom of the steps, a grocery bag dangling from one hand and her phone clutched in the other. She wore leggings and an oversized sweater. Her hair was pulled back in a single braid, and her eyes were red-rimmed. She’d been crying recently.

She looked exhausted, yet still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

She looked like home.

“What?” Her voice came out hoarse. “What are you—I thought you left.”

“I did.” I dropped my phone to my side, the call forgotten as I shoved it into my front pocket. “I got about four miles out before I realized I was making the biggest mistake of my life. Granted, it took my car breaking down again, but still…”

She didn’t move. Her fingers tightened on the grocery bag, knuckles going white.

“You left Muffy.” Not a question. An accusation. “I saw her at the café.”

“I know.”

“You left her distraught. Bev called me. She told me—” Ally’s voice cracked. “She said Muffy wouldn’t stop crying for twenty minutes after you walked out.”

“I know.”

“And now you’re here.” She gestured at me—at the flowers and the soup on her table, and the kitten poking out of my jacket. “What is this?”

I came down the steps slowly, giving her space to retreat if she wanted. She held her ground, chin lifted, eyes blazing. “Nothing fixes what I did. I left you. I left her. Like a loyal dog, I followed Andi out of town because that’s what I’ve always done—follow, accommodate, let other people make my choices for me.”

“But you’re back?”

“I’m back because of this.” I pulled the pink mouse from my pocket. “I found this in my car. And I was standing there on the side of the road, holding it, and I realized—” I had to stop. Swallow. “I realized I felt more holding this stupid thing than I’d felt the entire drive with Andi. I felt more thinking about coming back here than I ever felt thinking about going with her.”

“So you came back for the cat.”

“No.” I closed the distance between us, stopping at the bottom of the steps. Close enough to see the tear tracks on her cheeks, the mascara smudged under her eyes. “I came back for you. Muffy was—God, Ally, Muffy was the wake-up call, but you’re the reason. You’re the only reason.”

“You—”

“I know I don’t deserve another chance.” The words spilled out. “I know I hurt you. I was a fucking idiot. And then I left⁠—”

My voice broke.

“I’m sorry.” I reached for her face, and she didn’t pull away, so I cupped her cheek in my palm. “I’m so fucking sorry. For being a coward. For making you feel like you weren’t worth choosing.”

“What happened with Andi?” Her voice was guarded, but she hadn’t pulled away from my touch.

“I’ll tell you everything. I promise.” I brushed my thumb across her cheekbone. “But first—I’m staying. I’m staying in Cupid Corner, and I’m keeping Muffy, and I’m choosing you, if you’ll have me.”

She searched my face. “You’re staying? Really? You hate this place.”

“No, I don’t.” I stepped closer. “I hated who I was when I first came here. But it’s made me a better man. Al, you’ve made me a better man. I love you, Alyssa. I love how you talk to animals like they understand every word. I love how you work too hard and love easily. I love that you took one look at me—sweaty and miserable and carrying a half-dead kitten—and decided to crack a joke about an invisible car even though I probably looked like I would bite your head off. I love your spark and your smiles and your godawful singing.”

Ally chuckled through the tears.

“I love you. And I know trust takes time. But I’m asking for a chance to prove I’m not going anywhere. I want to sit and stay for you, and only you. I want to be, and I hate myself for even saying this, but I want to be your good boy.”

“Oh, god, you’re an idiot,” she snorted, and a snot bubble came out of her nose, which she quickly wiped away with the back of her hand.

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything else. The wind cut between us, and somewhere inside the house, Bernie had started howling along with the other dogs.

Then Ally reached up and wrapped her fingers around my wrists. Not pushing away. Holding on.

“You really are an idiot,” she said.

“I know.”

“A complete and total idiot who put me through hell.”

“I know.”

“And if you ever—ever—make me feel like that again, I will let Bernie sit on your face while you sleep and smother you with his stinky asshole.”

A laugh burst out of me. “That’s only fair.”

“I mean it. He weighs two hundred pounds, and he has gas.”

“I understand the threat.”

She stared at me for another beat. Then her grip on my wrists tightened, and she pulled me down, and her mouth met mine.

Ally wasn’t gentle. She was angry and desperate, and she tasted like salt from her tears. When I wrapped my arms around her and hauled her against my chest, she made a sound that went straight through me. Her fingers fisted in my jacket. My hands slid into her hair, ruining her braid, and I kissed her like I’d spent the last twenty-four hours thinking I’d never get to do this again.

Because I had. And it had been hell. The lowest gutters of hell.

Muffy protested from between us—a sharp, indignant meow at being squished—and Ally broke the kiss with a wet laugh.

“She’s got terrible timing,” Ally said, peering down at the kitten’s offended face.

“No, she’s got perfect timing.” I adjusted my jacket so Muffy could breathe. “She’s the reason I’m here.”

Ally’s hand came up to scratch behind Muffy’s ears. The kitten leaned into her touch, purring. My heart melted into an oozy mess.

“What happened with Andi?” Ally asked again, softer this time. “The whole story. Not the summary.”

I pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then her nose. Then the corner of her mouth, because I couldn’t help myself.

“Inside,” I said. “I’ll tell you everything. But I brought soup, and you need to eat.”

She studied me for another moment. Then she picked up her grocery bag from where I’d set it on the step, grabbed the soup from the porch table, and headed for the door.

“You coming?”

Bernie’s massive shadow appeared in the frosted glass, tail wagging hard enough to shake the whole frame. Inside, the chorus of barking had reached fever pitch.

I looked at Ally—at this woman who’d taken a chance on a lost broken stranger and somehow made him want to be better. At the chaos waiting behind that door. At the life I could have if I stayed.

“Yeah.” I grabbed the flowers and followed her up the steps. “I’m coming.”