Chapter 1: Fate at Maple Heights

The day after we tied the knot, my husband turned into a rabbit.

I burst out laughing and gave him a little poke with my finger. "So what, does this mean I’m supposed to keep the fridge stocked with romaine and baby carrots from now on?" I couldn’t resist grinning even wider, the whole thing so surreal I half-expected someone to yell "Gotcha!" from behind the couch.

His little nose twitched, and those dark eyes shot me a look that was way too human—full-on offended, if a rabbit could manage that. He let out a sharp "Thump!" with his hind leg, which definitely said, 'You think you’re funny, huh?' I couldn’t help myself—I ruffled the soft fur between his ears and thought, Well, looks like I married a real salad enthusiast.

Funny thing is, I first met Toby at a local animal clinic. The memory hit me out of nowhere, like the scent of hand sanitizer when you walk into a hospital.

Back then, I’d just moved out on my own. My rented apartment in Maple Heights felt like any other sleepy suburb—quiet, too quiet. The silence got to me, so I decided to check out the nearby animal clinic, hoping to adopt a kitten or puppy to keep me company and fill the empty space with some life.

The place was warm, filled with the sharp tang of antiseptic and the unmistakable smell of wet dog. Toby was behind the counter, wearing a blue surgical mask—not the pandemic kind, just the regular vet look. His eyes—round and gorgeous—locked with mine as he asked, his voice a little muffled, “Hey, can I help you?”

I’m a sucker for a good pair of eyes—sue me. The moment I saw his, my heart did a little somersault.

His voice just made me smile wider. Even that was my type: gentle, a bit shy, and with that kind of Midwest kindness you only see in old movies.

I nodded, not missing a beat. “Yeah. I wanted to ask if you have a girlfriend. If not, do you think I’m your type?”

He just stared at me, like his brain had short-circuited. His confusion was written all over his face.

He looked flustered, blinking, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. It was like I’d just beamed down from another planet.

A sweet, clueless guy who’s never even been out of the Midwest?

That just made me even more excited. His cheeks were turning red—red as a stop sign—above the mask, and he kept glancing at the adoption posters on the wall like maybe they’d jump in and rescue him.

But not wanting to scare him off, I put on my best Southern charm, pitching my voice all delicate. “Oh, I mean, I don’t have a boyfriend and wanted to adopt a pet for company.”

He seemed relieved and explained, “It’s all through our adoption program—no fee or anything.”

“Free? That’s awesome!” I did a quick fist pump, excitement bubbling up inside me. Even with the mask, I could see a smile threatening at the corners of his mouth.

He fidgeted. “Feels good to help out, you know?”

He nodded, a little more relaxed. “Follow me, I’ll show you.”

But every time I tried to walk beside him, he sped up just enough to keep a safe distance—like he thought I might jump him in the hallway or something. Ouch. Harsh. I pouted, hugging my cardigan tighter, and caught my reflection in the glass door.

I touched my face, wincing as I realized—oh no, I hadn’t put on makeup today! Not even a swipe of mascara—rookie mistake.

Note to self: never skip mascara again, Autumn.

He led me through a few twists and turns in the clinic—past the exam rooms, down a hall that smelled faintly of bleach and animal shampoo—until we reached the back.

“You’re not luring me into the supply closet, are you?” I joked, giving him a playful elbow.

He stiffened so hard you’d think I’d accused him of murder.

He shot me the kind of look people give when they’ve watched too many Dateline episodes. I almost laughed.

I blinked, then added with wide-eyed innocence, “Like, maybe you want to charge me extra for the cutest rescues? Or is there a secret menu I should know about?”

He exhaled, his voice tight but with a hint of a smile. “Please don’t joke like that—I’ve read too many crime stories.”

I shot him a side-eye, trying to keep things light. “Why so formal? Just call me Autumn, or Annie if you want. I don’t bite—promise.”

He looked awkward but managed, “Alright, Autumn, here we are.”

I peeked past him and found a whole menagerie: half-grown puppies, kittens tumbling over each other, even some hedgehogs and rabbits. The room smelled like cedar chips and animal shampoo, the air alive with the shuffle of paws and the occasional squeak of a toy.

I couldn’t help myself—total cuteness overload. I dropped to my knees, letting a kitten swat at my shoelace. “They’re so adorable!”

His voice softened as he explained, “All of these were strays, most abandoned because they weren’t purebred.” He sounded like he’d seen it all before, but still cared every single time.

I reached out and poked a chubby, sleeping puppy, just to see if it was real.

The puppy woke up, yawned like a tiny lion, shifted, and went right back to sleep. I laughed, the sound bouncing off the linoleum floor.

“Such a cute little thing, and still abandoned. Some people, I swear…” I let out a sigh, my chest tightening a bit. “How do they just walk away?”

“So, Autumn, have you picked one out yet?”

I pouted, putting on my best wounded act. “You’re rushing me already? Trying to get rid of me?” I eyed his name tag, drawing out, “Dr. Toby.”

He looked surprised for a split second, then realized I’d just read his tag. He said, “No rush. Take your time—I’ll be around if you have questions.”

Before I could invent an excuse to keep him nearby, he ducked out of the room so fast you’d think someone had called his name on a game show. The door swung shut behind him, and I was left with a room full of animals and my own thoughts.

In the end, I picked a little white rabbit.

I’d heard from the staff that the previous owner had to give it up because their family wasn’t on board with pets. They just hoped it would find a good home. I cradled the rabbit gently, feeling its tiny heartbeat fluttering like a hummingbird against my palm.