I met Cassian outside a café near the dunes. He wasn’t flirting—just knelt to pet my dog, Tulio, and then asked the strangest thing:
“Can I borrow your dog for twenty minutes?”
He had a meeting with his ex and her lawyer, trying to prove he was ready for commitment. Tulio, apparently, helped make that point. I was single, curious, and a little charmed—so I agreed.
That odd favor turned into smoothies, beach walks, and, a month later, a city hall wedding. Everyone said it was fast. Maybe it was. But Tulio adored him, and that mattered.
A year later, at the beach, I found an old puppy photo of Tulio in Cassian’s backpack. It didn’t make sense—I’d adopted Tulio four years ago, fully grown. When I asked Cassian about it, he denied having any puppy pictures. Later, the photo mysteriously vanished.
I visited the shelter where I’d adopted Tulio. The woman who worked there remembered him… and remembered Cassian as the man who gave him up.
When I confronted Cassian, the truth came out: years ago, broken and grieving, he surrendered Tulio during the worst time of his life. Seeing me with Tulio outside that café? That wasn’t fate—it was a second chance he never thought he’d get.
At first, I felt betrayed. Used. But Tulio missed him. So we took it slow. Walks. Talks. Honesty.
Months later, Tulio curled up in Cassian’s lap again, like he finally felt home. That’s when I knew.
We rebuilt—this time with no secrets. We celebrated our second anniversary with Tulio in a bowtie.
Cassian once lost everything, including Tulio. But when life gave him another shot, he didn’t waste it.
Sometimes, love begins with a lie… but it only lasts with the truth.