Chapter 15 Maybe I Overreacted
Maybe I Overreacted
Eli's Search History: Are British Blue Shorthair cats prone to travel anxiety?
Eli
In hindsight—maybe I overreacted.
I shouldn’t have let her words get to me.
It’s fine.
I’m fine.
My father is not the reason for why I like to stalk.
Anyway, even if he might have been the reason for my initial obsessive tendencies, he definitely isn’t a factor now.
I’ve broken the cycle.
I’ve been cured.
Now, all my focus is on Emily.
I felt bad for my outburst, and for quitting the therapy sessions, so I did something I think will get her back on my good side.
It wasn’t easy, but I got her a cat. And not just any cat. The cat. Graham.
That’s right, I went to Italy and stole her cat from her parents.
I called in another favour with Karl, getting him to falsify the documents needed to get him on the plane with me.
Now, I just have to work out how to present my gift to her.
He’s currently lapping up some milk I put out for him after he finished his tuna dinner. I’ve never been an animal person—but I think I’m already a great cat dad.
I’ve bought him all sorts of accessories: a new collar, bowls, a scratch tree, a bed.
Perhaps I’ve gone a little overboard, since I’ll have to give him up when I return him to Emily. But I couldn’t help myself. The little guy has grown on me.
A loud mew sounds, and I look down to find Graham staring at me expectantly.
“You can’t have any more food, greedy guts.”
He hisses as if he understands me. Maybe he does.
“I’ll take you to mummy soon, okay?” I tell him, squatting down to pat his fury head.
I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to get him to Emily’s flat. I’m not even sure if her flat is suitable for him. How will he go outside?
Maybe I should keep him here?
Maybe Emily should just move in with me? Then I can look after Graham and take him on walks when she’s not here. I know cats don’t need leads, but I got him one anyway—don’t need the furball to get hit by a car.
That feels like the best idea.
But how do I do it?
I want her to come willingly, but I’m getting impatient.
I’m sure if I just take her, she’ll eventually learn to love me. She already trusts me. That’s step one.
Hmm.
Okay.
This is going to require some planning.
I don’t want her to give up her job—she loves it and I want her to do anything that makes her happy.
But if I take her, then let her go to work… She’ll run from me the first chance she gets.
Decisions, decisions.