Joseph strolled through his living room, flicking off lights as the sun set outside his window. The day had been long: he’d handled phone calls for his business, visited a couple of rental properties he managed, and run errands around town. He glanced at the clock on the wall—6:47 PM. Usually, by this hour, he would have been prepping dinner with his wife, discussing their days and planning tomorrow’s schedule. But that vision of domestic life had imploded three months ago.
Since the day his ex-wife Natalie left, Joseph found himself searching for any sense of routine that could ease the loneliness. At 38 years old, successful in his real estate ventures, Joseph was wealthier than most in their small city. Yet, all the money and status in the world couldn’t fill the quiet emptiness left by the betrayal he never saw coming.
Natalie had been with him for five years, but a wave of heartbreak washed over Joseph when he discovered she’d been having an affair with his best friend. That horrid realization struck him like a thunderbolt—seeing text messages on her phone, noticing how she giggled with someone on late-night calls, and how she distanced herself from him at home. It culminated in a confrontation he’d never forget: the day he found them together in what was once Joseph’s happiest space. The confrontation ended with shouting, tears, and a vow from Natalie that she’d always wanted more from life. Then she packed up a few suitcases and left. He’d been picking up the pieces ever since.
Joseph scoffed at the memory, shutting off the last lamp in the living room. His once-busy household was quiet now; no laughter, no shared mealtimes, no weekend brunches. The only living creature sharing his home was Gus, the golden retriever he adopted soon after Natalie left. Gus was nearly a year old now, a bundle of boundless energy and unconditional affection. Joseph often joked that Gus was his lifesaver—a four-legged friend who would never betray him.
That evening, Joseph planned to order takeout for dinner. He rarely cooked anymore, not wanting to face an empty dining table set for two. Gus trotted over and nudged Joseph’s leg, a reminder that he was hungry, too.
“All right, buddy, dinner time,” Joseph said, opening the pantry to retrieve a can of Gus’s favorite dog food. He emptied it into Gus’s bowl, giving the dog a fond pat on the head. Gus wagged his tail happily, scarfing down the meal.
After feeding Gus, Joseph usually let him out into the fenced backyard so he could run around and release his pent-up energy. The dog had been trained well and typically trotted back inside whenever he was done playing. Joseph flipped the switch to illuminate the yard with soft floodlights and watched from the window as Gus bounded around, chasing imaginary foes in the darkness.
oseph settled onto his couch, phone in hand, to place a takeout order. The silence weighed on him. He considered calling one of his old friends—except that many of his friends were also Natalie’s friends. After the divorce, lines had been drawn, and the entire social circle had grown complicated. Better to keep to himself tonight, he decided.
Minutes slid by, and Gus didn’t return. Usually, he’d be pawing at the back door by now, letting Joseph know he was ready to come in. Joseph tapped the couch restlessly. “Where are you, buddy?” he muttered, glancing out the window to see if Gus roamed the corner of the yard. He saw nothing but the swaying silhouettes of bushes.
An unease formed in Joseph’s stomach. He grabbed a flashlight and stepped outside. A chilly breeze brushed against his skin, rustling the hedges. He called out, “Gus, come here, boy!” Expecting the familiar jingling of Gus’s collar or the pitter-patter of paws, Joseph stood still, waiting.
Instead, he heard barking. Faint at first, then clearer—a series of sharp barks emanating from beyond the fence. Joseph frowned. Gus didn’t bark often; he was more the friendly, tail-wagging type. Something must be off. With quick strides, Joseph made his way to the fence, shining the flashlight beyond his property. Nothing was visible.
But the barking continued.
ushing aside his hesitation, Joseph unlatched the fence gate and stepped out onto the road. The streetlights cast only scattered pools of light along the asphalt, leaving long stretches in shadow. Following the sound of Gus’s insistent barks, Joseph walked down the street, about half a block away, until he spotted Gus near a patch of grass by the curb. The dog was standing over something or someone, barking repeatedly.
“Gus, hush,” Joseph commanded softly, worried he might disturb neighbors. But as he neared, he realized the dog was not just barking aimlessly; he was whining, nudging something on the ground with his nose.
