The Cat Was Never There

My girlfriend and best friend adopted a stray. She kept going to his place ever since. Whenever she did, she would have that look of impatience on her face as she said, "I would go over to his place, but that cat only lets me hold it." Blake Chaucer sneered. "You think I want you at my place? It's the cat that likes you, not me." They would squabble whenever they met up. Still, it didn't take long for her to memorize his door's passcode. She even remembered how he needed something warm before bed because he had a weak stomach. When she didn't show up on my birthday, she said, "The cat's having a fever, and he can't handle it himself." I held my resentment over our situation for a long, long time, and it erupted on the day my parents came over. They wanted to see her. Alas, they waited for three hours, but she didn't come back. So, I went to Blake's place without telling them, and what greeted me was a particularly clean place that had no signs of a pet living there. There was no cattery, no litter box, and not even a strand of fur lying around. However, there was a pair of women's slippers sitting on the porch and a bottle of perfume Queenie Hilton regularly used in the bathroom. A sticky note was plastered on the fridge's door. It was her handwriting. It read, "I'm making dinner, you dummy." Chapter 1 We're Done I stared at the note on the fridge for a long, long time. Dummy. That was how she used to call me. She said that title was only reserved for her boyfriend. The bedroom's door swung open, and out came Blake in an oversized black hoodie. I recognized that hoodie. I waited in line for three hours just to get that limited edition hoodie during her last birthday. She later told me that she lost it. I spent a lot of time looking for it, but all she said was, "It's just one hoodie. It's no big deal." The sight of me drained all color from Blake's face, but he swiftly recovered and clapped my shoulder like he used to. "You should've called if you were coming, man. I just got out of the shower, and my place is a mess." I moved away from his hand. "Where's the cat?" He paused for a moment. "Pet hospital. I told you that the cat had a fever." I looked at the absurdly clean living room. There was no cattery, no litter box, and not even a single strand of fur. Instead, there was only a pair of women's slippers on the porch and the perfume in the bathroom. I also saw a shirt belonging to a woman drying on the balcony. Blake looked in the direction of my gaze. When he saw what I was looking at, he quickly explained, "Queenie's shirt got soaked after she took the cat to the hospital, so she left it with me. She left her perfume, too." The urgency in his tone softened as he continued, "I'm your buddy, man. You trust me, don't you?" Just then, Queenie's voice came from the entrance. "You got more cold drinks again, Blake?" The locked door clicked. Her cold voice traveled into the house before she did. "Do you want to kill your stomach and then yourself?" The look on Blake's face shifted as he shot me a look. Sure enough, in came Queenie with a bag of groceries. She had bought beef, potato, pumpkin, and milk. Those were all Blake's favorites. Blake quickly put on a sneer and infused his voice with his usual impatience. "I don't need your concern. You're annoying." Queenie put the groceries on the ground and answered coldly, "You called me three times last night just for my concern, you know." I was standing before the fridge, but I couldn't find an opening in their conversation. They had always been like this. The two of them loved to fight. Blake said she had a bad temper, while Queenie said Blake was very fussy. Back then, I would smile and be the mediator. I thought they had toned down the fighting because of me and the stray cat. Queenie finally saw me. "You came all the way here barely wearing anything?" She took her jacket off and was going to drape it over me. The edges of Blake's eyes went red before the jacket even touched me. Queenie's hand froze, and she said coldly, "I thought I told you I'd come over after I dealt with the cat. Why'd you come here?" I looked at the jacket and smiled blandly. "Where's the cat?" Queenie frowned. "I told you where it is." I handed her the phone. The property management team just came back with a clear-cut response. "Mr. Chaucer has not registered for any pet. He's allergic to cats. In fact, he complained about a stray cat in the staircase just last month." Silence fell upon the living room as I looked at them and pressed for answers. "So, where's the cat that only lets you hold it?" Blake teared up. "I didn't mean to lie to you. It's just… I've been feeling awful." Queenie said nothing. That was even more humiliating than an explanation. My phone rang. It was my mother. "Did you find Queenie? Your father just reheated the food for the third time." Something squeezed my throat. My folks waited for three hours just to see their would-be daughter-in-law. I looked at Queenie and said softly, "You don't have to wait anymore, Mom. Queenie's never coming again." Queenie jerked her head up. "What was that?" A crying Blake immediately latched on to me. "I'm sorry. Please don't fight with her. Not for me." I pulled my hand away and stepped back. The back of my hand crashed into the edge of the shoe rack. Soon, a trickle of blood oozed from the wound. Queenie extended her arm without thinking, but then Blake started crying harder. When she heard him, her hand froze. Her reaction told me everything I needed to know. So, I held my hand by my side and said, "Let's break up, Queenie." Chapter 2 No Boundaries Queenie's face fell. "Don't you threaten me with a breakup, Zacharias McGrace." I didn't turn back as I left the house. I saw her coming after me before the elevator door slid shut, but all it took was Blake calling her name softly to make her stop in her tracks. When I came home, I found my parents still seated around the dining table, waiting for someone who wouldn't come. The food had been reheated three times. My mother didn't look the slightest bit happy, and she was looking at my father with worry in her eyes. My father had just had bypass surgery done, and he hadn't slept too well the night before because he was so excited to see Queenie. They noticed me coming home alone and immediately rose from their seats. "Where's Queenie?" I hid my hand behind my back. "Something came up." My mother was stunned, while my father forced a smile. "It's okay. You young 'uns do tend to be busy. We understand. We can have dinner some other time." My parents were helplessly coming up with excuses for her, and I felt my throat tightening up. Still, I didn't tell them about the breakup for fear that it would strain their already frail health. Instead, I said, "I'm going back home in a couple of days. Maybe stay there for a while." My mother held my hand. "Did you two get into a fight?" "No." I took the cake off the table. "I just miss you guys." The doorbell rang an hour later. I was filling up a cardboard box with Queenie's stuff, but I answered the door anyway. Blake was outside, holding an orange cat. I could see rashes climbing up his neck, and the edges of his eyes were red. "I've got the cat with me, Zacharias. Please don't stay mad at me." The cat was thrashing in his arms, and it scratched him until his wrists were covered in red marks. Queenie came running out of the elevator, and she didn't look happy at all. She took the cat away. "Are you out of your mind, Blake? You're allergic to cats, yet you held one?" Blake shed more tears. "I just want Zacharias to believe me." Queenie swiveled and stared daggers at me. "Are you happy now?" My mother was shocked. "What is going on?" I was going to say something, but Blake clutched his chest and fell to his knees. Queenie rushed to support him. "Blake!" she cried out in alarm. Then, she roared at me, "Get the car keys! We're going to the hospital!" My parents were panicking. I followed Queenie downstairs in case I worried my folks any more than I already had. Still, I wasn't blind to how she let Blake lean on her shoulder during the entire trip. Blake's eyes were closed, and he muttered, "Please don't blame me, Zacharias." Queenie chastised him quietly, "Stop pushing yourself. I can't face Zacharias if anything happens to you." She wasn't really mad at him. If anything, she was heartbroken for him. Blake was carted into the ER as soon as we got to the hospital. I stood outside the door, the wound on my hand tearing open again. It took her until that point to notice. She frowned and took my hand. "Why's it still bleeding?" I wanted to pull my hand away from her, but she held down the bandage and softened up. "Stop throwing a tantrum. Yes, I'm sorry for what I did." Then, she placed some keys in my hand. I froze. Queenie stood on her tiptoe and kissed my forehead. "I have everything arranged. I'll move Blake to the house right across yours so you'll stop thinking we crossed the line. You can see us whenever you want." I froze. This woman thought that gesture of hers could make up for the hurt she'd caused me. "He can't live alone in this state. You're his best friend, so you can take care of him. Your folks are here, too. They can cook, right? Tell them to cook for Blake when his stomach acts up." I stared at her in disbelief, as though she'd just told me that the world was coming to an end in ten seconds. My parents' health had started to fail last winter, so I wanted to move them someplace closer to me. I wanted to move them into the place across from hers. I was fine with paying the rent for them. All I wanted was to stay close to her as it would make it easier for me to take care of my parents. When I told her about my plans, she frowned. "We just went steady. It feels like we're moving too fast if your parents are living across from us. I don't like our elders keeping an eye on us all the time." I deleted the real estate agent's number after that, leaving my parents to stay in our hometown. Yet, this woman was moving Blake into that same house that I wanted for my parents, and she expected my parents to cook for him. I slammed the keys back into her chest. "Do you think my family's a pushover, Queenie?" Her expression went cold. "Are you seriously throwing another tantrum? Have you forgotten everything Blake has done for you? He drank for you in all those wine-and-dine. He grabbed the meds you needed when you were sick. "All we did was lie a little to you, and you're going to hold the moral high ground over him?" I looked at her. "Whose girlfriend are you, really?" That stopped her short, but she reined in her fury as she answered, "Yours, but you'll break his heart if he heard that. Go in there and apologize when he wakes up." I laughed. "You expect me to apologize to him?" "Yes." She stared at me and added solemnly, "He's hospitalized for an allergy. I don't want to think you're a heartless man." I turned to leave, but she grabbed my wrist. "If you leave right now, I'll make you pay for this." Chapter 3 It's Her Fault I went home and had a fitful sleep that night. My dreams showed me a lot of trivial stuff that happened before. I dreamed about a team-building event that involved us eating out. Blake was seated beside me, and Queenie frowned the moment his fork touched something spicy. "Don't eat anything spicy." He sneered. "Stay in your lane." She grabbed him something mild. "Don't cry to me if your stomach kills you at night." I had laughed back then. "You two always fight when you meet." Then, my dream shifted. It was raining, but Blake and I didn't bring any umbrellas. Queenie only brought one. She shoved the umbrella into his arms and growled in annoyance, "You're a total diva when you get a cold." An angry Blake had yelled at her, "I don't want your umbrella!" I stood under the overhang, watching them argue all the way to the car park. In the end, I ran out into the rain to flag down a taxi. Back then, I told myself that Queenie was my girlfriend and Blake was my buddy. I told myself that nothing would happen. I should've known better. All the clues were already there. Dawn just broke when I woke from my dream. My phone buzzed. Blake just posted a new update. The photo showed his hand hooked up to a needle. Queenie's jacket covered his knees. The caption read, "Someone scolded me the whole night." Our mutuals were amused. "And they draped their jacket over you?" "Ms. Hilton is such a harsh taskmaster, huh?" Blake replied with an emoji. "She's annoying. I told her to cheer Zacharias up, but she insisted on staying." I stared at the update for a long while. Then, it was time for work. I got changed and went to the company. All the conversations stopped right after I walked into the pantry. Someone passed me by while holding their cup. They said quietly, "He's still pressing even when his buddy gets hospitalized for an allergy." "He won't even let his girlfriend help his buddy. That jealousy of his is so cringe." I clenched my cup tighter, then I went to HR to hand in my application. "I want to be reassigned to the branch in my hometown." HR's supervisor noticed my name on the form, and an awkward look appeared on their face. "It might not be possible, Zacharias." "Why?" She closed the file. "Ms. Hilton said you're unstable, and you can't be reassigned anywhere else." I smiled. "What else did she say?" She didn't look at me. "She said that you need to stay home for a couple of days to calm down. You can come back after you've dealt with all your personal affairs." I walked out of the office and heard someone in the pantry talking about Queenie. "Ms. Hilton's a just woman. She didn't just take her boyfriend's side." "She said Blake's already depressed, and she explained things in case everyone got mad at him. She said that Zacharias was too sensitive and he's overreacting because of a cat." "That explains why Blake is beating himself up." Oh, so that explained all the gossip and hostility. That woman leaked everything just to make Blake feel better. I wanted to leave, but then I heard Blake's voice coming from the staircase. Chapter 4 Infidelity Blake questioned, "Why'd you say that about him, Queenie? You know he's innocent." Queenie answered quietly, "I had to, or you'd hide somewhere and have a meltdown." He sobbed. "But he's your boyfriend." "He'll get over it," she said with certainty. "He's very kind, especially when it comes to you." He fell silent for a long time before asking, "That cat doesn't really exist. Why'd you help me with the lie?" I pushed my hand against the wall, but I could feel my fingers going cold. Queenie didn't answer right away. A few moments later, she answered, "Because I wanted a reason to see you too." Everything fell silent. I could nearly hear my own heart thumping in my chest. Blake's voice was trembling. "So… you know his parents waited three hours for you on his birthday?" "Yes." She continued, "But he'll cover for me. He always does." My form fell out of my hand while the staircase went silent. When I looked up, I saw Blake holding Queenie's collar as he kissed her. Queenie only froze for a moment. Then, she held the hem of his shirt. I stood in my spot as this scene happened. All the scolding and talking back was just an act so they could have an affair behind my back. Queenie saw me, and the look on her face changed. "Zacharias!" I picked up the form and turned to leave. She ran after me and held my arm. "I can explain!" I looked at her. "Explain what? How you made me the jester in your court?" Blake was standing behind her, his face stark white. "Zacharias, I'm sorry." I ignored him. Queenie said in a low voice, "It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. We were never intimate before this." "Oh please, don't try to wriggle your way out of this." I sneered and swatted her hand away. HR refused my application that afternoon. The message said, "Not approved." A note came with it, and it was in her handwriting. "You can come back to work after you apologize to Blake." I stared at that one line for a long, long while. Then, I booted up my computer and opened a new file. The title read, "Resignation Letter." I finished the letter, sent it, took my lanyard off, and placed it on my desk. Someone shouted after me, "You're actually quitting?" I didn't turn back. If I couldn't be reassigned, then I would quit and apply for a job in the city of my choosing. If she refused to give me a dignified response, then I'd just have to carve a path while burning all bridges behind me.