Who’s Using My Stuff? Chapter 2

The next few days were peaceful.

But just in case, I set up a small security camera in the living room, telling Ethan it was to keep an eye on our dog, Mochi.

Today, the broadcast of the game was released, and I posted a picture of the autographed photo on my social media.

【Finally got my idol’s autograph! A dream come true! So happy!】

The post drew a lot of comments and likes from basketball fans.

Then, one comment was pushed to the top.

【You’re a fake fan. You bought that on eBay.】

I replied instantly: “I did not! And I’m not a fake fan!”

I even posted photos of my ticket stubs from games I’d attended over the past ten years.

The comment section turned into a warzone between my defenders and those accusing me of clout-chasing.

A few minutes later, the same account posted a screenshot of a redacted eBay transaction, hammering the final nail in my coffin.

The autograph sold by that eBay seller was identical to the one I was holding.

Even the little doodle on the corner of the card was in the exact same spot.

Suddenly, a horrible thought struck me. My heart sank.

I immediately opened eBay, found the original seller, and messaged them for details.

Ethan had bought it.

And it wasn't from the game that day. It was from a game in another city, an autograph the seller had gotten months ago.

My anger flared.

Why would Ethan lie to me?

He never went to the game. So where was he that day? And who was he with?

My followers were demanding an explanation. Fuming, I promised them I would get to the bottom of it.

That evening, when Ethan came home, I confronted him, my face a grim mask.

“Are you hiding something from me?”

He looked at me with a weary expression. “You found out, huh? It’s about the autograph, isn’t it? Look, I bought it as a backup. I’ve been so swamped with work, I was afraid I wouldn’t make it to the pre-game signing. So I made a Plan B, and it’s a good thing I did, because I didn’t make it in time.”

“You were busy until midnight?”

The game ended at midnight. I didn't believe he was working that late.

Ethan pulled me into a hug, nuzzling my neck. “Thankfully, I made it for the second half.”

He even showed me a video of himself at the arena with his friends.

“We’re trying for a baby, remember? I’m just trying to work extra hard to save up for formula and diapers.”

Seeing him so motivated for our future family, my expression softened.

“You could have just told me the truth, honey. When I posted the photo, my fans accused me of being a fake. I could barely defend myself.”

Ethan promised immediately, “It won’t happen again! I swear, babe.”

He held me close and kissed me twice. Just then, Mochi trotted over, rubbing against my legs.

But around his neck was a new bandana I’d never seen before.

I stared at it, certain I hadn't bought it.

“Where did Mochi get this new bandana? I haven’t bought him one recently.”

My tone was serious, and Ethan waved a dismissive hand.

“Oh, probably a freebie from the groomer. I didn’t even notice.”

His expression was perfectly natural. He yawned, said he was exhausted from overtime, and went to take a shower.

I nodded, my face a placid mask.

As he walked into the bedroom, the knot in my stomach tightened.

I’d been taking Mochi to the same groomer for years. They never gave out free bandanas.

And more importantly, caught in the fabric of this one was a single, long, reddish-brown curl.

I touched my own short, dark hair. It definitely wasn’t mine.

And in all the years we’d lived here, no one with reddish-brown hair had ever set foot in our apartment.

There were too many strange things about Ethan lately. My intuition was screaming at me.

He was lying.