Two weeks into Matcha's reign over our lives, and Aiah had fully ascended into professional dog mom status.
And me?
I was slowly losing my damn mind.
I walked into our bedroom, expecting to cuddle up next to my very attractive girlfriend, only to find...
Aiah, curled up in bed, with Matcha taking my spot.
Like, fully sprawled out. Tiny paws in the air, fluffy golden belly exposed, taking up prime real estate.
And Aiah?
She was staring at her with a soft smile, running gentle fingers over Matcha's fur like a proud mother gazing at her firstborn child.
I blinked.
"Babe. What. The. Hell."
Aiah looked up at me, completely unbothered. "Oh, bub, you're here."
I gestured wildly at the tiny homewrecker currently occupying my spot.
"Yes, babe. I live here."
Aiah giggled, patting Matcha's belly. "Look at her, bub. She's so comfy."
I squinted. "On my pillow, Aiah."
She pouted. "Bub, she's just a baby."
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face.
"Okay, so where am I sleeping? The floor? The couch? In the car?"
Aiah smirked. "Well, technically, I can think of one place you can sleep."
She patted the tiny gap between her and Matcha.
I stared at her.
She stared back.
A battle of wills.
Guess who lost?
Yeah. Me.
I spent the night curled into a tiny corner of my own bed while Matcha snored like she paid rent.
/
There was a time—not so long ago—when my nights were spent wrapped up in my sexy girlfriend's arms, making out, cuddling, and occasionally getting very, very distracted.
Now?
I was watching Aiah give Matcha a dog spa treatment.
And not just a basic one.
A full, premium, deluxe package.
Aiah sat cross-legged on the floor, carefully applying some fancy dog-friendly moisturizer to Matcha's paws. There were candles lit. A whole mood was happening.
I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, glaring.
"Babe. What. The. Hell."
Aiah barely spared me a glance. "Oh, bub, you're here."
"Yes, babe. Again, I live here."
She continued massaging Matcha's tiny paw, humming like she was giving a five-star salon treatment.
"Matcha had a long day. She deserves to be pampered."
I scoffed. "Oh, she had a long day? What did she do, babe? Taxes? Carry the weight of the world on her fluffy little shoulders?"
Aiah giggled, picking up a tiny comb and running it through Matcha's fur.
"Bub, look how relaxed she is."
I glared at Matcha, who was sitting there like a spoiled little princess, eyes closed, tail wagging.
"That used to be me."
