The dog refused to cross the threshold, no matter how hard she pulled on the leash. “Buddy,” Rachel sighed. It was her third time bringing him back to the shelter. The first two adoptions hadn’t worked out. “Too shy.” “Too nervous.” “Not a good fit.” She had convinced herself she was prepared this time. The house was quiet and calm. She had bought a new bed. New toys. Even organic treats. Buddy wouldn’t move. Rachel crouched down. “I won’t leave you,” she said softly. He stared at the doorway like it was a trap. Rachel understood that feeling more than she liked to admit. After her own breakup, she had promised herself she wouldn’t let fear control her anymore. But fear is stubborn. She stepped inside alone and sat on the floor, leaving the door open. After a long minute, Buddy crept forward, inch by inch. Rachel smiled faintly. They sat together in the empty living room. It felt like a beginning. But that night, when Buddy barked at every small sound, and Rachel lay awake wondering if she had made the right choice, doubt crept in again. Only later did she realize that nothing had actually been resolved.