Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Wendy
I'm sprawled on my lumpy old couch, cradling a purring ball of black fur against my chest like she's the only thing tethering me to sanity. Scraps stretches a paw and bats at my necklace, her tiny claws snagging the chain. Her name is almost too fitting.
"You're gonna be the death of me," I murmur, gently untangling her before she can decapitate me. "But at least you're cute."
Her purring doesn't stop, though she does side-eye me in a way that feels suspiciously like she can understand me and is judging the crap out of me.
"You'll never believe what happened to me today," I say, scratching her behind the ears. Scraps yawns, clearly unimpressed with whatever drama befell me today. "I ran into Cole. Yup. That Cole."
She blinks at me, unbothered.
Obviously she's unbothered. She doesn't know who the fuck Cole is.
"Yes, I know! You don't know, and probably don't care, but holy heck, the world is small!" I shrug before continuing. "Or maybe I'm just cursed."
Scraps’s tail twitches like she agrees with this last statement, and I sigh, leaning back into the couch cushions. "He's my boss now. Well, one of them. And married. To a man. Can you believe that, baby?" I press the back of my hand to my forehead like some tragic Victorian heroine. "Of course he's gay. Because why wouldn't the one genuinely decent man I've ever met be completely unavailable?"
I pause, scratching under her chin, trying to gather my thoughts. Scraps is the only one in my life right now, and I'm suddenly very grateful I decided to have her join me. She's a surprisingly good listener for someone who tried to eat my sock earlier.
But the humor fades as the memory of Cole—and that day—creeps in, uninvited.
It was honestly one of the worst days of my life.
I look down at my new kitten as I tell her the story.
"My financial aid request had been denied. Again. Not just denied but shut down with a curt, soulless email that might as well have included a middle finger emoji. Without the money, I couldn't afford another semester. College was supposed to be my fresh start, my ticket out of the small-town grind. Instead, it was slipping through my fingers." I stroke Scraps’s fur, digging into the soft hair.
"I was angry, heartbroken, and desperate for someone to tell me it would all be okay. My boyfriend was supposed to be that someone. So I did what any lovesick idiot would do. I decided to surprise him."
It's surprising how much it's helping me tell this story out loud. Who knew cats could give good therapy?
"I spent the last of my savings on a cheap bottle of wine—a peace offering for showing up unannounced—and headed to the apartment he shared with his older brother—Cole. I imagined us cuddling on the couch, me crying into his shoulder, and him telling me we'd figure it out together. But life isn't a rom-com."
Scraps blinks up at me sleepily, and I realize I'm fast losing my audience. She yawns and tucks her head under a paw before falling right asleep.
Instead of continuing my tale verbally, my mind wanders down memory lane.
When I get there, the door is ajar, and I hear voices inside. Peeking in, I smile to myself as I think about how surprised he's going to be.
Surprised isn't really the word for it.
Well not him, anyway.
Because I find him in bed. With another girl.
The wine bottle slips from my hand, shattering on the floor, and I don't even flinch. I'm too busy staring at the betrayal unfolding in front of me.
Before I can do anything—not that I know what to do—I realize Cole's there too. He must have been drawn by the sound of the shattering bottle. He takes in the scene in front of us, and his face draws into a fierce frown, his expression is a storm cloud.
He yells. At them, not me, but I can't process the words.
It feels like the universe is yanking the rug out from under me, and I'm free falling with no net.
"Wendy—" Cole starts, his tone careful, as if I'm a wild animal about to bolt.
And he isn't wrong.
I wish I can say I leave with some dignity intact, but that's just one big fat lie.
I lose it. Yelling at Cole like it's his fault his brother is a dirtbag. Deep down, I know it isn't fair, but I'm too angry and humiliated to see past my hurt.
And then I run like a wild animal trying to escape.
I swipe at my eyes, forcing the memory back down where it belongs. "That was the beginning of the end," I whisper to Scraps, my voice breaking. “I lost him, lost my chance at getting my degree, and then everything unraveled after that.”
As if sensing my need for affection, Scraps’s purr grows louder. It's comforting, and I smile. Before I can put her down, her big eyes blink open again. Apparently naptime only lasted long enough to avoid the end of my miserable story. Not that I can blame her.
She meows softly, and I chuckle, lifting her up so we're face to face. "You're not a half-bad therapist, you know that? At least your payment is within my budget."
As if on cue, she wiggles out of my arms and trots to her food bowl, staring at it pointedly. "Fine, fine," I grumble, dragging myself off the couch. "Your emotional support is impeccable, but your timing is bloody brilliant."
I refill her bowl and watch as she digs in, her tiny tail twitching happily. At least one of us is thriving.
But my night isn't over. I still have a shift at the bar, and the thought makes me groan. My feet already ache in anticipation, but rent isn't going to pay itself.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the big mirror on my closet door as I get ready, and the sight is... less than inspiring. My hair is a frizzy mess, my eyes are red from crying, and my uniform looks like I'm getting ready to go to war.
"Pull it together, Wendy," I mutter, splashing cold water on my face. "You've got this."
By the time I'm ready to leave I tuck Scraps back into the makeshift space for her in my small bathroom. She quickly curls up on the pile of blankets like the queen she clearly thinks she is.
"Hold down the fort," I tell her as I shut the door and head out.
The night air is crisp, biting at my skin as I make my way to the bar. My heart still feels heavy, but there's a tiny flicker of defiance burning in my chest. I've been through worse, and I'll get through this too.
One way or another.