I married Ethan Foster in what was essentially a marriage of convenience between our wealthy families. Our relationship had always been cold and distant after the wedding. Our parents couldn’t stand to see us like this anymore. They ordered us to work on developing genuine feelings for each other. Ethan said to me, “If you have any requests, feel free to ask. I can fulfill them all.” I replied, “Then bring home a collar.” Ethan’s voice was strained as he said, “You… You’ve got the wrong person. I’m not someone who can play those kinds of games with you. You shouldn’t do this either. It’s not good.” I shrugged. “Fine, then I’ll find someone else.” That night, he tightly gripped my hand against the collar, his eyes red as he said: “No one but me gets to be your puppy.” The marriage of convenience had landed me a sexually repressed CEO for a husband. Not only did he button his shirts all the way to the top, he wouldn’t even let me see him in the shower. Two years had passed with no progress in our relationship. If anything, things seemed to be getting even colder between us. Our parents couldn’t stand it anymore. They called multiple family meetings, ordering us to work on developing real feelings for each other. They wanted us to hurry up and become the model of a loving couple in our social circles. I’d heard this speech so many times I was immune to it by now. But Ethan seemed to take it seriously this time. He hadn’t been at the office long when he sent me a message: “Is there anything you want today?” I was busy at the time and casually replied: “No.” Ethan wasn’t satisfied with this answer. “Why not? A handbag? Jewelry? Are you sure there’s nothing?” I took a moment to respond again: “Really, there’s nothing.” Ethan could be a bit old-fashioned, but he was always generous when it came to these things. Clothes, bags, jewelry – gifts would arrive at the house every few days. Ethan still wouldn’t let it go: “If there’s anything you want, you can tell me. I can fulfill all your desires.” It seemed his family must have put quite a bit of pressure on him again. I petted the puppy’s head and replied to him: “Then bring home a collar when you come back.” Ethan had just left for work that morning when my best friend arrived carrying a puppy. She said she thought I might be bored, and they’d just had puppies at home, so she wanted to give me one. I spent the whole morning bonding with the puppy and learning about puppy care. I had most of the other supplies like food and toys ready, but I’d forgotten about getting a collar. Since Ethan was so insistent on me making requests, I figured I’d humor him. Ethan’s chat showed he was typing for a long time. After a while, he sent a video call request instead. The puppy had gotten restless in my arms and jumped down to run around. I answered Ethan’s video call and saw his face on the screen. He looked like he was trying hard to control himself as he finally spoke: “You…” “Don’t joke around with me like this.” I was totally focused on the puppy and frowned when I heard him say that. “I’m not joking. Puppies need training.” Ethan’s frown deepened. The hand visible on camera was clenched into a fist, like he was struggling to hold something back. After a long moment, he let out a slow breath and said: “You…” He paused, then continued in a controlled voice: “You’ve got the wrong person. I’m not someone who can play those kinds of games with you.” What a weirdo. He wouldn’t even wear a simple collar. Then why say he could fulfill any request I had? I kept my face neutral. “Fine, forget it then. I’ll find someone else.” Ethan tried to explain: “That’s not what I meant.” I didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. I hung up the video call and immediately ordered a delivery.
The delivery arrived half an hour before Ethan got home. The collar was very elegant. I took over a dozen photos and posted them on Instagram with the caption: “Looks like I’m a puppy parent now!” Ethan immediately commented: “?” I’d forgotten to hide the post from him. If he knew, my mom would find out. She’d rush over as fast as possible and insist on taking the puppy to raise herself, saying it was too much trouble for me. Realizing this, I quickly deleted the Instagram post. When I reposted it, I made sure to hide it from all the key people who shouldn’t see. Our house was so big that even with a puppy here, Ethan might not necessarily find out. I was admiring the photos of the puppy on my phone when I heard the screech of tires in the driveway. The sound of dress shoes on the floor followed. For some reason, my right eye started twitching. Through the gap in the not-quite-closed door, I caught a glimpse of Ethan’s shadow. But he didn’t come in right away. He stood outside the door for over 10 minutes before he finally seemed to work up the courage to lightly knock twice. I adjusted my clothes and said, “Come in.” Ethan entered with one hand in his pocket. His sharp gaze swept every corner of the room. I looked up at him after smoothing my outfit. “What are you looking for?” Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Where is he?” Who? The puppy? He’d commented on my Instagram post, so he must have looked at it carefully. He had to be talking about the puppy. Since he already knew, there was no point in hiding it anymore. I answered him honestly: “He ran off.” Ethan’s hand in his pocket clenched into a fist, veins standing out on his arm. “Where did he run off to?” I gave him a strange look, not understanding why he was acting this way. Seeing I wasn’t answering, Ethan took a deep breath and said in a strained voice: “He just left you all alone like that? What kind of man is he?” My brow furrowed even more. “What are you talking about?” Talking about a puppy having responsibility? This fit my stereotypical image of Ethan perfectly. Ethan kept taking deep breaths, like he was trying to calm himself down. I didn’t want to keep having this nonsensical conversation with him. I turned to go dry my hair. Ethan stood behind me, his emotions seeming more under control now. “Why are you taking a shower at this time?” I sighed. “The puppy made a mess on me.” He must have been overexcited today. While I was playing with him, he peed all over me. I had no choice but to shower. Ethan clenched his fist again. He nearly crushed a decorative object nearby. After a long moment, he spoke through gritted teeth: “Don’t see him anymore. Let’s just pretend none of this ever happened.” I couldn’t believe this. What was wrong with me having a puppy? Was it illegal? Besides, it’s not like Ethan disliked dogs. He was clearly just looking for an excuse to argue. My own tone wasn’t very pleasant as I replied: “Why should I?” In the mirror, I saw Ethan staring intently at me. He spoke as if forcing himself to compromise: “It was my fault earlier. I shouldn’t have rejected you like that. If you really want to, I suppose I could… But you shouldn’t have…” He paused, then continued: “It’s my problem.” His attitude had changed so quickly, I didn’t have the heart to keep glaring at him. But before I could speak, Ethan went on: “As long as you don’t see him anymore, I’ll do whatever you want.” He kept fixating on the puppy. I was getting angry now. I slammed the hairbrush on the table and stood up. “Ethan Foster, I put up with you not treating me like a real wife before. But now you’re going too far, trying to control even little things like this. If you insist on being this way, we might as well get divorced!” We didn’t have much of a relationship anyway. I didn’t say that last part out loud, but Ethan had already pushed me against the wall and was kissing me fiercely. I don’t know how long it lasted before he pulled back slightly. His breathing was ragged and his eyes were a bit red as he said: “Divorce? Don’t even think about it! No one but me gets to be your puppy!” I stared at him blankly, my mind not quite processing what was happening. Just last night he’d been so guarded around me, not even letting me see him in the shower. How had he gone from that to wanting to be my “puppy” in one day? Ethan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he’d regained his usual composure. He brushed his thumb across my lips and apologized softly: “I’m sorry, I got carried away just now.” See, this was the real Ethan Foster. Apologizing even for a simple kiss. Before I could say anything, Ethan was already speaking in a conciliatory tone: “If you really insist on keeping it, I… I suppose I can accept that. But don’t let yourself get tricked, and try not to bring it around me if possible. As for divorce…” Ethan withdrew his hand without finishing the sentence. “You should get some sleep.” By the time I came back to my senses, all I saw was Ethan’s retreating back. My mind was a jumbled mess. I tried to sort through my thoughts. Ethan wouldn’t be jealous of an actual puppy. His loss of control earlier must have been because he thought I was talking about keeping some kind of boy toy “puppy.” But that made even less sense. If that were the case, knowing Ethan’s personality, he would immediately file for divorce. To end this loveless marriage of convenience. But he didn’t. Instead, he said things like “I can accept it” that sounded more like a jealous boyfriend. Come to think of it, over our two years of marriage, he’d always shown me proper respect and care no matter where we were. He never forgot my birthday or any anniversaries either. Could it be… that he had feelings for me? I chewed on my fingernail, pondering for 10 minutes, but still couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation. I gave up and decided to just go to bed instead of wasting more brainpower on it. Just before falling asleep, I took out my phone, intending to check on the puppy through the security camera. But I accidentally tapped into the feed for outside my bedroom instead. It showed that after Ethan left my room, his footsteps had clearly slowed down. Then he leaned against the hallway wall, covering his eyes with the back of his hand. I turned up the volume. With my ear practically pressed to the speaker, I finally made out the faint sound of his muffled sobs. My heart clenched. Thinking back carefully, from the moment I’d misunderstood Ethan not letting me keep the puppy, every word I said had been laced with thorns. Then at the height of my emotions, I’d even blurted out something about divorce. Ethan didn’t know the puppy was a real puppy. So from his perspective, I was arguing with him over another man and even bringing up divorce, right? No wonder he cried. The root of the problem was me, so I should probably go comfort him a bit, right? Yes, just to comfort him. No other reason. After psyching myself up, I put on my slippers and headed straight for Ethan’s room.
His door wasn’t locked. Only a small night light was on. I snuck in quietly, taking off my shoes to creep up behind him. I wanted to see if he was still crying. But I’d barely gotten close when Ethan suddenly whirled around. In the dim light, I could see his eyes were a bit swollen. Oh no. I really had hurt him this time. I scratched my head awkwardly and apologized: “I’m sorry, I didn’t really mean it about divorce earlier. I just got emotional because you seemed to hate the puppy so much.” Ethan’s body was tense as he stared at me like he’d seen a ghost. Worried he’d be uncomfortable in that position, I turned him back around to lie flat. To show how sincere my apology was, I practically draped myself over him. I wanted him to see the honesty in my eyes: “I’ve apologized now, so please don’t cry anymore, okay?” Ethan seemed to be wound tight as a spring. He forced out through clenched teeth: “Get… off… first.” I ignored him. Ethan couldn’t take it anymore. He gripped my waist and set me to the side. To prevent me from hugging him again, he quickly sat up and turned on the light. The sudden brightness made me squint. Ethan’s hand immediately covered my eyes. Once he was sure I’d fully adjusted, he started to pull away. But I caught his hand and kissed his palm lightly. Ethan yanked his hand back like he’d been electrocuted. “What are you doing?!” We were sitting face to face now. I could clearly see his puffy eyes and ears that had turned bright red. Ethan belatedly realized this. He turned away, not letting me look at him anymore. I averted my gaze and asked, “Were you really crying in bed earlier because I mentioned divorce?” It didn’t seem like the Ethan I was used to seeing. But he had definitely started crying right after leaving my room. That word seemed to hit a sore spot for Ethan. His tone was a bit harsh: “I wasn’t crying!” I instinctively reached out to touch his slightly warm eyelids: “But your eyes are all swollen.” Ethan grabbed my wrist: “I was just watching a movie.” So stubborn. I pulled up that segment of security footage to show him: “You started crying as soon as you left my room.” Ethan barely glanced at it before taking my phone away. He said in a strained voice: “You’re mistaken. I didn’t.” I’d never realized Ethan could be so obstinate before. I tried to reassure him: “It’s okay if you cried. I won’t make fun of you. I just wanted to tell you that mentioning divorce earlier was impulsive. I won’t casually say things like that again.” Ethan frowned: “So you only came to comfort me because you saw me crying?” I nodded. A flash of disappointment crossed Ethan’s eyes. I explained: “I came to apologize because I didn’t want you to be upset.” It was only after seeing him cry that I realized how hurtful my words had been. Ethan’s breathing hitched for a moment: “Why don’t you want me to be upset? Is it because…” He trailed off there. I furrowed my brow: “I don’t have some weird fetish for watching people be miserable. Why would I want to see you upset?” But come to think of it… Ethan did look pretty… sexy… when he was crying. My gaze lingered on his slightly swollen eyes, then trailed downward. Maybe because he was about to sleep, or maybe because he’d been too busy being upset. Ethan’s pajama top had fewer buttons done up than usual. After my manhandling earlier, it was even riding up a bit to reveal his abs. My cheeks felt hot. I couldn’t bring myself to look directly at Ethan anymore. After forcefully shaking the inappropriate thoughts from my head, I spoke up: “I’m going back to bed now. Bye.” If I stayed any longer, I was afraid I might lose control. Just before getting off the bed, I suddenly remembered the most important thing I still hadn’t explained: “Oh right, about the puppy, you…” I’d meant to tell him he’d misunderstood. But as soon as the word “puppy” left my mouth, Ethan flopped back down and bundled himself tightly in the blanket. I poked him: “Ethan?” He closed his eyes: “I’m going to sleep now.” I tugged at his blanket, trying to get him to open his eyes. Before I could say anything, Ethan had already lifted the covers and pulled me in with him: “Time to sleep.” He seemed to have a visceral aversion to the word “puppy.” Curled up in his arms, I tried speaking again: “The puppy is a real puppy. The kind that barks.” Ethan kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. He clearly had no intention of listening seriously. Fine, I’d explain properly tomorrow. Sensing I wasn’t going to say anything else, Ethan held me even tighter. He was so warm. I quickly started drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, my feet got cold again. I instinctively tried to burrow closer to Ethan. It took a couple tries before I realized his spot was empty. I was too sleepy to open my eyes, so I just called out groggily: “Ethan?” A few seconds later, Ethan lay back down. I was about to wrap my arms around his waist. But he caught my hand and placed it on his neck. He seemed to be wearing something. It felt a bit cool, like metal. His lips brushed my ear as he said: “I can be your puppy too. Don’t find anyone else, okay?” His breath tickled my ear. I buried my face in his chest, mumbling an incoherent: “Okay.”
When I woke up, I was still in Ethan’s arms. He was in the same position as when we’d fallen asleep, like he hadn’t moved all night. So what had I felt last night? Noticing me staring at him, Ethan casually pulled the blanket up higher to cover himself: “What are you looking at?” My mind was filled with the sensation from last night. Hearing his question, I instinctively pointed at his neck: “You’re not wearing anything there?” Ethan frowned, like he had no idea what I was talking about. I still wasn’t convinced: “Like a collar or something?” In our two years of marriage, I’d never dreamed about Ethan before. And I definitely wouldn’t have some risqué dream just from seeing him shirtless. So he must have done something while I was asleep! Ethan still looked confused: “Collar?” Then he had a look of realization: “You really want to see me wear one?” Yeah right. Playing dumb. I didn’t pursue that line of questioning. I threw back the covers and got out of bed. Ethan watched me pitifully: “Where are you going?” My gaze fell on his neck as I said deliberately: “To see my puppy, of course.” “I bought lots of cute collars yesterday. If you won’t wear one, I’m sure he’d love to.” Ethan clutched the blanket tightly, like he was struggling with some great internal conflict. After a long moment, he finally spoke: “I’ll come too.” I pretended to hesitate: “Is that appropriate? You said last night not to bring him around you.” Ever since realizing last night that Ethan probably had feelings for me, I felt no guilt about teasing him like this. It was his own fault for not saying anything. If he wouldn’t say it, I’d just have to test the waters myself. Ethan gripped the blanket so hard it wrinkled: “I’ll just take a quick look. To make sure he’s suitable.” I’d been planning to take him down to see the puppy room anyway. Hearing him say that, I nodded reluctantly: “Alright then.” Our destination was in the house, but I couldn’t tell him that yet. I could only hint vaguely: “You don’t need to dress up too formally.” He’d even put on shirt stays. If he found out we weren’t even leaving the house… I rubbed my nose, debating whether to reveal the truth now. After a moment’s hesitation, seeing Ethan turn back to pick out a tie, I decisively abandoned that idea. I couldn’t really blame myself. I’d tried to explain last night, but he was the one who refused to listen. Besides, I really wanted to see his expression when he met the actual puppy.
An hour later, Ethan had finally finished getting ready. To prevent him from suspecting anything, I’d even changed into a different outfit. Ethan looked down at the dress I was wearing: “Why are you wearing that one?” I glanced down at myself. This was a dress Ethan had sent over last month. I loved it, but I’d been saving it to take nice photos in, so I hadn’t worn it yet. I put it on today partly because puppies can see yellow well. And partly because I wanted Ethan to help me take photos with the puppy after I explained everything. Before I could answer, Ethan had already retracted his question: “Never mind, of course you should dress up nicely to see someone you like.” It was such a simple statement. But I detected a hint of sarcasm in it. Before my brain could fully process it, I blurted out: “If this counts as dressing up, then what do you call putting on shirt stays and styling your hair?” He looked more like he was going to intimidate a rival than just check things out. Ethan glanced at me: “Meeting the man my wife likes.” With that, he took my hand and led me downstairs.
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