Chapter 3

On Fiona's third day in the apartment, my cat, Mochi, scratched her.

It was the first time Julian had ever gotten angry with me.

"You know she's afraid of cats. Why didn't you keep the door shut?"

I picked Mochi up from under the table.

"This is his home."

Fiona cradled her scratched hand, tears filling her eyes.

"Julian, don't blame Chloe. I wanted Mochi to like me, so I tried to pick him up."

I frowned.

"He doesn't like strangers touching his tail."

Fiona widened her eyes innocently.

"I didn't know."

She looked at the cat in my arms and asked softly, "Didn't he let me hold him before?"

Of course he had.

Back then, she was only a guest.

Now she wore my slippers, drank from my cup, slept in my bed, and called Julian her husband.

Mochi had simply recognized the intruder before I did.

Julian grabbed his car keys.

"Let's get you a tetanus shot."

But Fiona did not move.

"Don't you think it's time to find Mochi a new home?"

I held Mochi tighter and stared at her.

"On what grounds?"

Fiona still looked hurt, but I caught the flash of triumph in her eyes.

"The immigration lawyer said USCIS might ask whether we plan to have children. Julian and I agreed we'd say we're trying for a baby. It's not safe to keep a cat in the house when we're trying for a baby."

My fingers tightened around Mochi.

"A baby?"

Julian cut in before I could say more. "We're not actually going to have one. It's just something they may ask during the interview."

Then he took Fiona's hand. Before they left, he looked back at me.

"Keep him in the carrier. I'll deal with this when I get back."

Mochi was shaking in my arms.

I held him all night.

Julian still wasn't home the next morning.

Fiona posted a photo from urgent care, saying the scratch had gotten mildly infected and Julian was staying with her.

I called him three times.

He finally picked up on the third call.

"What is it?"

I got straight to the point. "What's going to happen to Mochi?"

His answer came quickly. "Board him for now."

I gripped the phone tighter.

"He panics around strangers. The last time we boarded him, he stopped eating for three days. Did you forget?"

Silence stretched between us.

"Fiona has to stay until the green card interview is over. At least a month."

"And so?"

"Don't let one cat ruin everything we've done."

I looked at the blue tag on Mochi's collar.

Julian had engraved it himself.

Mochi's name was on the front, and both of our phone numbers were on the back.

Julian had once told me that no matter where Mochi ended up, that tag would always lead him home.

I said quietly, "Then Mochi and I are leaving."

For the first time, Julian sounded alarmed. "Don't threaten to move out. Chloe, stop this. We'll talk when I get back."

He hung up.

I packed Mochi's food and supplies. Just as I was about to leave, a message from Fiona appeared on my phone.

"Chloe, Julian already found someone to adopt Mochi. You don't need to find a boarding facility."

My stomach dropped.

I spun around. The carrier still sat beside the couch, but it was empty.

A piercing yowl came from the bedroom.

I rushed in and found Julian forcing Mochi into another crate. He must have come in through the side door without me hearing him.

"What are you doing?"

I lunged for the crate and grabbed hold of it.

Mochi clawed at the door until his paws began to bleed.

"His new owner is already waiting."

Julian put a hand on my shoulder and held me back.

"I checked them out. They have a good home."

I fought to pull Mochi free.

"I didn't agree to this. He's been with me for three years. What gives you the right to give him away? Why does Fiona get to stay?"

His expression hardened.

"She is my wife now."

The words stopped me cold.

Fiona stepped out from behind him with a tiny bandage on the back of her hand.

She crouched beside the crate.

"Mochi, be good in your new home. No more scratching people."

Mochi reached a paw through the bars.

I reached for him, but Julian lifted the crate out of my reach.

"After Fiona and I divorce, you can get as many cats as you want."

"I only want Mochi."

"A cat is a cat."

Then he shut the door in my face.

I raced downstairs, but the car was already pulling away.

Two hours later, I arrived at the address Julian had given me.

There was no adopter.

After checking the records, an employee looked grim.

"The cat became severely distressed when he was brought in, so we couldn't complete the intake. Ms. Blake left the paperwork and walked out."

I rushed into the treatment room.

Mochi was curled up in the back of a cage. Someone had cut the blue tag from his collar.

Julian's number had been blacked out with permanent marker.

Beneath my number, someone had written, "Owner surrendered. Do not contact."