I Adopted the Oldest Shelter Dog, Knowing She Had Only a Month Left – My Goal Was to Make It Her Happiest

He stood there, smirking like he’d been waiting for this moment. Dressed too well for a casual outing, his shirt crisp, his watch gleaming. He looked me up and down like he was sizing up my life’s decisions in one glance.

“Still all alone?” he asked, his tone dripping with fake pity. “How’s that dog of yours?”

There was something sharp beneath his words, a cruelty that made my stomach twist.

I responded calmly, “Maggie?”

“Yes, Maggie.” He crossed his arms. “Let me guess. She’s gone, isn’t she? All that effort for a dog that barely lasted a few months. Was it worth it?”

I stared at him, stunned—not by his audacity, but by how little of a person he had become to me.

“You don’t have to be so heartless, Greg.”

He shrugged. “I’m just being realistic. You gave up everything for that dog. Look at you now. Alone, miserable. But hey, at least you got to play hero, right?”

I exhaled slowly, gripping my coffee just to keep my hands steady. “What are you even doing here, Greg?”

“Oh, I’m meeting someone.” His smirk widened. “But I couldn’t resist saying hello. You know, you were so obsessed with that dog that you didn’t even notice what I’d been hiding from you.”

A cold weight settled in my chest. “What are you talking about?”

His smirk deepened. “Let’s just say I wasn’t exactly heartbroken when you picked the dog that day. Things had been over for a while. That was just a convenient exit.”

Before I could respond, a woman walked up beside him—young, stunning, the kind of effortlessly beautiful that made my breath hitch. She slipped her arm through his without hesitation, tilting her head at me like I was a passing curiosity.

The ground felt like it had shifted beneath me. But before I could process the sting, a familiar voice cut through the moment.

“Hey, Clara. Sorry, I’m late.”

Greg’s smirk faded. His eyes flickered past me.

I turned, and suddenly, I wasn’t the one caught off guard.

There was Mark.

He walked up, effortlessly slipping into the moment like he belonged there. In one hand, he held a cup of coffee. In the other? Maggie’s leash.

She was no longer the frail, broken dog I had carried out of the shelter all those months ago. Her fur gleamed in the sunlight, her eyes sparkled with life, and her tail wagged furiously as she bounded toward me.

Mark handed me my coffee with a smile, then leaned to plant a kiss on my cheek.

Greg’s jaw dropped. “Wait… that’s…”

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