Love arrived unexpectedly, but something went wrong.
One evening, Emily was walking home from work through the small park near her flat when a tiny puppy tumbled out of the bushes at her feet. He was chubby and round, like a little ball.
“Goodness, where did you come from, you little sweetheart?” she murmured, bending down.
The pup whined, wagging his stubby tail, nudging her trainers with his nose. She scooped him up, and the way he gazed at her—so loyal, so sad—she couldn’t leave him there.
With the puppy in her arms, Emily unlocked her front door and set him down. He immediately began sniffing around, exploring his new home.
“What am I going to do with you? I don’t even know how to look after a dog,” she sighed, watching him. “And I’ll need to name you. No idea what breed you are—will you stay tiny or grow huge?”
She turned to check on him—he’d vanished.
“Hey, where’ve you got to? Toby!” she called, and the little thing rolled out from behind the telly stand. “Oh, so you *are* a Toby! Right then, Toby it is. If you grow big, we’ll call you Tobias.”
The pup whimpered, hungry. Emily checked the fridge—nothing for a dog.
“I’ll have to get milk at least,” she muttered. “Better yet, pop into the pet shop across the road, get some proper advice.”
“Right, Toby, I’m off to the shop. Wait here—I’ll be quick,” she said, shutting the door carefully behind her. The pup whined, wanting to follow.
At the pet shop, Emily explained her situation to the cashier.
“I’ve no clue what to feed him. Bit out of my depth.”
“You’ll be fine,” the woman reassured her. “I’ll give you the basics, and Google the rest.”
Emily returned home with bags of puppy food. Toby grew quickly, and she learned fast—how to feed him, walk him on a lead, terrified he’d bolt.
“Toby, no! Toby, leave it!” she scolded.
Her biggest worry was leaving him alone while she worked.
“What’s he destroying today?”
Toby became Tobias—not enormous, but sturdy, with sleek brown fur. Her neighbour Margaret, who owned a pedigree Alsatian and knew dogs well, examined him.
“Looks like a Labrador mix, maybe with something else. Definitely got the Lab face.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Emily said, smiling. “Didn’t pick him—he picked me.”
A year passed. She still called him Toby, unless he misbehaved—then it was *Tobias*. He obeyed every command. Mornings and evenings, he proudly escorted her on walks—or, as she joked, he walked *her*.
“Tobias, because of you, I can’t even sleep in on weekends. You’re worse than my alarm clock,” she grumbled, ruffling his ears.
Weekends were his favourite. They’d stroll to the park by the lake, where the dog run let him go wild. He’d trot home, tongue lolling, content. He was her constant—comforting her when she was low, celebrating when she was happy. She barely remembered life without him.
Before Toby found her, she’d split with her boyfriend, James. They’d lived together in her flat for a year, arguing constantly. He was hopelessly messy—shoes tossed in the hallway, jacket dumped on the sideboard.
“James, there’s a *place* for things. Hang your coat up. I’m not your maid.”
“Why bother? I’ll just wear it tomorrow,” he’d retorted.
Worse, he left toothpaste smeared on the mirror, towels on the floor, dishes piled up. She’d tried reforming him, but after one final row, she kicked him out. His jealousy had tipped it—questioning her calls, demanding to know where she’d been.
The three-bedroom flat in central London was her grandmother’s, left to her when the old woman moved in with Emily’s parents for care. Her grandfather, a surgeon, had owned it before his heart gave out.
Emily worked in an office nearby, grateful for the short commute—Tobias waited eagerly by the door each evening. She’d leash him, and off they’d go. She bought his food on lunch breaks so he’d never wait too long.
Then Oliver appeared in her life when she least expected it—fresh wounds from James still raw. But love, as they say, arrives unannounced. Her heart thawed.
Their romance swept her up. She was twenty-six; he, thirty. For the first time, happiness felt effortless.
“Can it really be this easy?” she wondered. No fights, no interrogations—just peace.
Oliver never raised his voice, spoke little but meaningfully, surprised her with small gestures. They married. Only one shadow darkened it: his disdain for Tobias.
After the wedding, they debated where to live—first real argument. Her flat in the city centre could fetch a fortune if rented. His was modest but fixable.
“Let’s renovate yours and move there,” she suggested.
“Not with the dog,” he said flatly. “I don’t do pets. Never liked them.”
She couldn’t fathom it. Tobias, for his part, ignored Oliver. She refused to abandon him. After tense negotiations, they stayed in her flat.
“Don’t expect me to lift a finger for that mutt,” Oliver warned.
She didn’t ask.
Then her cousin died in a car crash. Emily left for three days to help her aunt, her parents joining her. Reluctantly, Oliver agreed to mind Tobias.
Returning midday to an empty flat, Emily was greeted by an ecstatic Tobias. She leashed him for a walk, but he tugged stubbornly away from the park.
“Toby, where are you taking me?” she muttered, letting him lead. Near a café, he halted, growling.
Oliver’s car was parked outside.
“He’s meant to be at work,” she murmured, tying Toby to a railing. Steeling herself, she entered.
There he was—holding hands with a pretty young woman, lost in her eyes. Emily recoiled as if scalded. She fled, untied Toby, and stumbled blindly. He guided her to a bench in the park, pressing his head to her knee as she stroked him absently, numb.
Hours later, clarity came. If she confronted him now, he’d lie—claim it was business. She needed proof.
At home, Oliver returned, all charm.
“Hey, you’re back! Work’s been mad—boss is cracking the whip. Might have late nights.”
“Since when is your workload so heavy?”
“New contracts. More money, though.”
“Hope it’s worth it,” she said thinly.
He didn’t notice, vanishing into his phone.
They’d never snooped—trust was absolute. Until now. Next morning, as Oliver showered, his phone buzzed. A message: *”Good morning, darling. Miss you. Can’t wait for tonight. Love you. Kisses. Your kitten.”*
“He doesn’t even *hide* it,” she seethed.
She stayed silent. Next day, another message—same time. *”Meet me at our café after work. Love you.”*
That evening, Toby dragged her straight to the café. Oliver’s car arrived as they hid behind a
