Puddy barreled toward us like a cannonball. I barely had time to brace myself before he launched straight at me again.
But this time, I didn’t fall.
Luis caught both of us with ease, steady as stone.
He looked down at me, still holding me in his arms. “Deanna, do you even eat? You’re lighter than Puddy.”
Excuse me?
“I’m five feet five cm and barely a hundred pounds. This is a perfect figure.”
Luis arched a brow, clearly amused. “Could use a little more. Might feel even better to hold.”
My face flamed. This man – he was too much.
I quickly stepped out of his arms and set Puddy down. The big guy probably weighed eighty pounds and had the enthusiasm of a toddler on sugar.
If he kept jumping on me like that, I was going to need physical therapy.
Still, I stroked his damp fur, fingers sinking into the softness.
“You smell amazing, Puddy,” I said with a laugh.
The fluffball wagged his tail and licked my hand in response, clearly pleased.
Luis watched us quietly, then murmured, “He never used to let strangers get this close.”
I paused.
So, it seems that I’m still a stranger…
But Puddy didn’t treat me like one.
“Maybe he likes your scent,” Luis added. “Feels familiar, like a mom or something.”
He stepped closer before reaching out and gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
His fingers brushed my cheek. Warm. Steady. Unmistakably intimate.
I froze, ears burning.
Trying to shake the tension, I cleared my throat. “So… why’s he called Puddy?”
Luis’ POV:
Thinking back on those old days, I couldn’t help but smile.
“The person who first picked it up really loved pudding,” I answered.
She loved it so much that every time I waited for her outside the hospital, I made sure to have one ready.
The moment she spotted me holding it, her whole face would light up.
Her eyes would shine – clear, dark, full of life – and she’d smile as she ate. She was absolutely adorable.
But then, one day, she stopped coming.
And the pudding kept melting in my hands. Again and again.
Eventually, I even bought the factory that made it.
“So, Puddy wasn’t originally yours?” Deanna asked, surprised. “Someone else found it first? And… how long did you take care of it?”
“13 years.”
Deanna nodded slowly. “That person must’ve meant a lot to you.”
I looked at her. “Yeah. She was everything to me.”
She hesitated before asking, “So… where is she now?”
I answered quietly, “She doesn’t remember Puddy anymore.”
Deanna frowned. “Seriously? How could someone forget Puddy? It’s so cute. Who could be that ruthless?”
She had no idea she was talking about herself.
“She’s just that ruthless,” I said bitterly.
She doesn’t even remember me. Isn’t that ruthless?
…
Deanna’s POV:
I looked up and met Luis’ steady gaze. Something in his expression made me feel like there was more behind his words – something he wasn’t saying.
Maybe I was just overthinking.
That afternoon, I spent some time in the garden playing with Puddy.
…
By the time I decided to leave, the sun was already dipping low.
Truthfully, I was a little nervous that he might suggest I stay over, but he didn’t.
Instead, he grabbed his jacket off the couch and said, “I’ll drive you home.”
“My car’s here. I can get home just fine,” I replied.
Luis narrowed his eyes slightly. “Deanna, you don’t have to go if you’d rather stay.”
I was speechless.
In the end, I didn’t argue.
…
About thirty minutes later, his sleek, limited-edition luxury car pulled up in front of my building.
As I reached for the door handle, a thought struck me.
“Luis?”
He tapped the steering wheel with his long fingers, sounding amused and slightly smug. “What? Can’t bring yourself to leave me?”
His tone caught me off guard. He’s so full of himself, it’s almost impressive.
“I just realized… we haven’t exchanged contact info yet,” I said slowly.
Worried he might get the wrong idea, I quickly added, “For future business stuff. It’ll make communication easier.”
Luis raised an eyebrow and held out his hand.
“Give me your phone.”
I passed it to him without hesitation.
“Password?”
“My birthday,” I replied, just as I reached to unlock it myself.
However, before I could, his fingers danced across the screen – and just like that, it lit up. He’d already unlocked it.
I stared at him in disbelief. How did he know my birthday?
Luis opened WhatsApp, typed in a number, and pulled up his profile. In one swift motion, he pinned it to the top of my chat list.
“Hey, that’s my phone,” I protested. Did he really just pin his contact on my phone without asking?
“It is,” he replied casually. “So, you get to choose what to name the contact.”
He handed it back to me like he had all the time in the world.
Do I really need to name his contact?
I hovered over the text field.
His profile photo was a picture of a fluffy white Puddy, and the name was simply “LE.”
I wasn’t sure what to type, but Luis was watching me closely, like he was waiting for something that would please him.
I began typing “Luis…”
Then, sensing something strange – like the air in the car had gone cold – I quickly deleted it and replaced it with ‘Puddy’s Daddy.’
He took one glance at the screen and smiled, obviously pleased.
Right in front of me, he turned on his own phone and changed my contact name to “Puddy’s Mommy.”
It felt off.
“Isn’t that a little weird?” I asked, unsure.
After all, I’d only met Puddy today.
Luis had raised him for 13 years.
“He already thinks you’re his mom. If I don’t call you that, he’ll get upset.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that.
Clearly, Luis cared a lot about Puddy.
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