In the early days, when they were still testing if this was real, Grace would joke to her friends that even though Peter was freshly out of a relationship, a loooong relationship (she would often drunkenly extend the word out and roll her eyes to emphasis how boring break-up stories can be), she was not, in fact, his rebound.
There was an in-between. There still is an in-between.
And this would get everyone's attentions. Grace loved to tell stories, to find ways of capturing the thing that captured her listeners’ attention and weave the rest of the tale around that.
For this story, it was 'there still is an in-between'.
The run into the punchline, and sometimes she felt bad about this, was quick and decisive. She didn't feel bad about making people laugh, but that she was making Peter, her Peter, the punchline.
Once the 'oooohs' died down, she'd tell the story of how Peter was about to top himself by jumping in front of a train when he heard the mewling of a tiny puppy.
There was no sign of the rest of the litter, just Tiggy.
The next morning, Peter brought Tiggy into the Vets. The moment he walked in, sleepless, no doubt still thinking about the train, Grace knew there was something about him. She had been thinking about what she was doing with her life, thinking of moving on from looking after other people and their fur-kids and retrain as a teacher. And then her own stray walked in, and she knew her time at the Vets was over.