Chapter 26: A Heart the Size of Samba
It was still early when the doorbell rang.
Outside, the morning fog clung lazily to the windows, and the sleepy stillness wrapped itself around the house like a blanket.
Lina, barefoot and wrapped in her oversized cardigan, shuffled to the door, wondering who would show up at this hour.
When she opened it, her jaw dropped.
Standing there, grinning like a mischievous schoolboy, was Jonas.
And beside him—sitting awkwardly, one paw too long for its body, ears a little too big for its head—was the most adorable creature she had ever seen.
A gangly, wobbly-legged Great Dane puppy, all paws and clumsy charm, with shiny black fur and oversized soulful eyes.
"Good morning," Jonas said with a crooked smile. "Meet Samba."
Lina blinked. "You got me… a horse with baby teeth?"
Jonas laughed. "Technically, she's a dog. But yeah… she might knock over a small table. Or a car."
Samba gave a yawn so dramatic it almost toppled her backwards, then wagged her huge tail and waddled straight toward Lina, plopping into a half-sit on her foot.
Lina crouched down and let Samba slobber on her cheek in greeting.
"She's… huge," she whispered. "She's a baby and she's already the size of a small mountain."
"I had to bring her now, before she grows too big to fit through the door," Jonas said, chuckling.
"And because I thought maybe… she'd fit into your life. Into our life."
Lina's smile was wide, unfiltered, glowing with surprise and joy. "You remembered I like big dogs?"
"You once said Chihuahuas make you nervous," he said with a shrug. "And that you prefer animals you could ride into battle."
She giggled. "I was kidding. Mostly."
He knelt beside her. Samba curled into her lap, whining softly like she already knew she belonged there.
"She's a Great Dane," Lina said, gently stroking the puppy's silky ears.
"Did you know they're nicknamed gentle giants? One of the sweetest and most loyal breeds. Affectionate, calm, intelligent… and incredibly sensitive. They get very attached."
Jonas looked at her, eyes soft. "I know. That's why I picked her. Because she has a heart big enough to match yours."
Lina stilled, her hand resting on Samba's back. The puppy wriggled happily under her palm.
She looked at Jonas with something tender and unspoken in her gaze.
"I think I see more of you in her. Protective, a bit dramatic, long-legged and emotionally needy."
"Needy?" he gasped.
She laughed. "Lovably needy."
He smiled and reached into his coat pocket. "I got her a leash. But it's for both of us."
He held it out.
"A leash?" she raised a brow.
"As a first step," he said. "You know, like… people test if they're ready for more by getting a dog. So… if you're ever ready for 'more'... I figured we could start here."
Lina swallowed hard. The moment felt oddly big, like it came wrapped in something more than just puppy paws and new beginnings.
"More like what?" she asked softly.
Jonas leaned in, brushed a kiss to her temple. "More like us. Maybe a house. Maybe a family. Someday."
Samba sneezed.
They both laughed.
"You know," Lina said, cradling the leash in her hand, "Great Danes are known for being amazing with children."
"I've heard," Jonas said, slipping an arm around her waist. "They're gentle, loyal, fiercely protective… and not afraid to take up space."
Lina nudged him. "Sounds familiar."
He kissed her cheek. "So… does she get to sleep on your side of the bed?"
"She gets your side," Lina said. "But only if you let me steal the middle."
"Deal," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.
Samba let out a loud puppy groan and flopped over completely, taking up half the hallway with her sleeping stretch.
And just like that, in the quiet of a foggy morning, with a massive puppy sprawled across her hallway and the scent of coffee drifting in from the kitchen, Lina felt it:
This was home.