Another dog, a giant, meaty, chestnut-coloured Newfoundland, was sitting next to her on the sofa,
licking Nora’s ear with a tongue the size of a slipper, meaning that Dylan had to sit on the floor.
Do you want the sofa?” “No. I’m fine on the floor.Nora didn’t push it. In fact, she was quite relieved.
It made it easier to watch Last Chance Saloon without any further awkwardness.
And the Newfoundland stopped licking her ear and rested its head on her knee and Nora feltwell, not happy exactly, but not depressed either.
And yet, as she watched Ryan Bailey tell his on-screen love interest that “Life is for living, cupcake”
while simultaneously being informed by Dylan that he was thinking of letting another dog sleep in his bed
(“He cries all night. He wants his daddy”), Nora realised she wasn’t too enamoured with this life.
And also, Dylan deserved the other Nora. The one who had managed to fall in love with him.
This was a new feeling – as if she was taking someone’s place.
Realising she had a high tolerance for alcohol in this life, she poured herself some more wine.
It was a pretty ropey Zinfandel from California. She stared at the label on the back.
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