When my wife Alicia fell ill, our Labrador Rocky became her constant companion. Even after she recovered, his clinginess grew—he wouldn’t let her out of sight and even turned aggressive. Concerned, we took him to the vet. A woman there mentioned how dogs sense pregnancy, sparking a moment of hope. A test confirmed it—Alicia was pregnant.
At first, we were overjoyed. But doubts crept in. We’d been careful, and the timing didn’t add up. I asked for a paternity test. Alicia was devastated, but agreed. The result: 0% probability. We tested again. Same result.
Eventually, Alicia admitted she’d had an affair. Heartbroken, I filed for divorce. She couldn’t keep Rocky, so he stayed with me—my loyal companion who sensed the truth before any of us.
One day at the park, Rocky led me to a woman named Courtney. Her warmth offered a glimmer of new beginnings. Now, as I sit on my porch with Rocky by my side, I reflect not only on what I lost—but on the hope that’s starting to return.