It was another Sunday morning. I pulled into our driveway after a long night shift at the café, eyes burning, brain buzzing with one thought.

Tea. Silence. Couch.

The second I opened the door, Bella launched at me like a furry rocket. She was my sweet little white-and-caramel cocker spaniel.

But that time, she looked… airbrushed. And I definitely hadn’t scheduled any grooming appointments.

“What happened to you?!”

I dropped to my knees and touched her ears. Perfectly trimmed. A tiny pink bow on her tail. And her fur…

Is that perfume?

My husband, Jason, appeared in the kitchen doorway, wearing lounge shorts and holding a toaster.

“Oh hey, you’re back already?”

“Hi. You took Bella to the groomer?”

“Not really. Just dropped her off since I was nearby. What? I’m bonding. She loves me now.”

He winked. I blinked. That, from the same man who last week said, ‘She stinks and keeps licking my slippers.’ I scooped Bella up and took another whiff. Nope, not my imagination. Chanel No.5.

“Is that… your perfume?”

Jason grinned, as if it was totally normal.

“I sprayed a little on her. Why? She smells amazing, right?”

The following Sunday?

A fur-lined pink jumpsuit. Bella’s coat sparkled like she’d just come from a doggy photo shoot. And again — that expensive scent.

“Okay. So now you’re what, a dog fashion influencer?”

I laughed, even though a knot was tightening in my stomach.

“I just want her to feel loved while you’re away. It’s our little tradition now.”

“You had a football match today.”

“Cancelled. Actually… I bailed. I’d rather hang out with Bella than yell at a screen with grown men.”

This is from the man who once shouted “sacrilege!” when I turned off a game during overtime.

Something was off.

***

Then came my business trip. Three days. I came home to Bella’s latest upgrade — a shiny beige collar with a tiny heart-shaped pendant.

Jason ran a hand over her head.

“Pretty, huh? The old one broke. Thought I’d surprise you with something fancy.”

“Wow… it’s… sparkly.”

I smiled. Forced it. Waited until he went into the shower.

Then I unclipped the collar. And there, on the inside, written in neat black marker, were the words:

“YOUR HUSBAND IS A CHEATER.”

I froze. Bella gave a soft yip.

“You knew. You little traitor. You knew all along.”

I stared at the collar. Still holding it in my hand. Bella blinked up at me, innocent as ever.

“Well then.”

If my husband’s playing games, he just picked the wrong woman to mess with.

***

I had a choice: either keep going crazy imagining things, or finally get some answers. So I did what any reasonable, mildly paranoid woman would do.

I bought a dog collar camera.

Bella sat on the bed as I adjusted the tiny lens into her new collar.

“Sorry, baby. I know you didn’t sign up for this. But mommy needs the truth.”

I stood in front of the mirror and rehearsed my lines before leaving.

“Oh, I’m just visiting my mom for the weekend. Don’t wait up!”

A quick peck on the cheek. Jason barely looked up from his phone.

Perfect.

I drove two blocks away, parked near a bakery, and waited with my laptop open. The camera feed was glitchy, but it was still functional.

I saw blurry carpet, Jason’s sneakers, Bella’s nose… and then — movement. He took her for a walk. Good. Nothing suspicious.

Until they took a taxi.

Until the car stopped in front of a house I didn’t recognize.

Until a woman opened the door.

She was pretty. Too pretty. Long hair, perfect skin, yoga pants — of course. And she smiled when she saw Jason. Not just friendly-smiled. Warmly. Like they had a routine.

Jason stepped inside. Bella’s camera caught him walking the long corridor, and the woman was following him.

I blinked. Zoomed in. Then Bella began to jump. Excited, full tail-wagging mode.

“Who are you even jumping for like that, huh?” I muttered at the screen. “I’m your only best friend, you fluffy traitor.”

The camera tumbled sideways. The screen went fuzzy, then black.

I slammed the laptop shut.

“Well, that’s it.”

I sat frozen for a moment, staring at the wall. That woman… She looked normal. Relaxed. Not like someone sneaking around.

Why did she write that note on the collar? If she knew about me… why warn me? Why help me instead of confronting him herself?

None of it added up.

Something was off.

I went back home and waited. Unpacked my bag, made myself a coffee, and flipped through bills. Stared at the front door like it might explain things on its own.

Evening came. Jason didn’t. I sat at the kitchen table, tapping my nails against the cup. Maybe they’re spending the night together. Maybe it’s their anniversary.