When I returned home from my weekend trip with my girlfriends, something felt wrong the moment I stepped through the door. The house was too quiet. Too empty.
The usual sound of tiny paws skittering across the hardwood floors was missing. Benji, my cat—my heart, my comfort, my family—always greeted me the second I walked in. But today, there was nothing. Just silence. And worse, I caught the faint, sickly-sweet scent of my mother-in-law Carol’s overpowering perfume hanging in the air like a bad omen.
A sinking feeling twisted my stomach. I dropped my bag and hurried inside, my voice trembling. “Benji?”
Nothing.
Then I spotted my husband, John, lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to his phone like he hadn’t a care in the world.
“Where’s Benji?” I asked, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.
John barely glanced up. “No idea. Maybe he ran off.”
A cold wave of dread crashed over me. Benji never ran off. He was an indoor cat, terrified of the outside world. He barely even looked out the window without getting nervous.
That’s when I saw her. Carol, sitting at the dining table with a smug smile curling her thin lips as she sipped her coffee, her manicured fingers tapping lightly against the cup.
I marched toward her, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. “Where. Is. My. Cat?”
Carol set her mug down with deliberate slowness. “Well,” she said, tilting her head, “I used your little trip as the perfect opportunity to do what needed to be done. You’re finally free of that animal.”
My hands tightened around the back of the dining chair. I forced my voice to stay calm. “What did you do?”
Carol sighed dramatically, waving a hand. “Oh, don’t be so emotional, Frances. You were way too obsessed with that disgusting furball. It’s time to grow up and focus on what really matters. Like starting a real family.” She smiled, as if she had done me some great favor. “You’re welcome.”
My entire body burned with fury. I turned to John, hoping—praying—that he would look guilty, ashamed, regretful. But he just shrugged again, as if this was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
“I think my mom is right,” he said, still scrolling through his phone. “It’s time to move on.”
“Move on from what?” My voice cracked. “From the one thing in my life that actually brings me joy? Unlike this marriage?”
That got his attention. John finally looked up, his face flushing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Carol stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “It means you’re being hysterical,” she snapped. “This is why we had to take matters into our own hands. You obviously can’t make good decisions for yourself.”
I clenched my fists, trying to breathe through the rage. Before I could respond, something outside caught my eye. My neighbor Lisa was in my yard, waving urgently. When I met her gaze, she pointed toward her house and mouthed something.
“Be right back,” I muttered, shooting one last glare at Carol before storming outside.
Lisa hurried over, gripping her phone. “I saw your mother-in-law with Benji yesterday,” she said breathlessly. “You need to see this.”
She pulled up a Facebook post, and my stomach dropped.
There was Benji, his white fur and bright green collar unmistakable, being cradled in the arms of someone I hadn’t seen in years—Samantha.
Samantha. The same girl who made my life hell in high school. The same girl who had somehow reinvented herself as a lifestyle influencer, spouting fake positivity while thousands of people lapped up her lies.
The caption beneath the picture made me want to scream:
“Meet the newest addition to the family! Sometimes the perfect pet just falls into your lap. #blessed #newcatmom”
“That’s not all,” Lisa said, swiping to a video. “I followed your mother-in-law yesterday. I had a feeling something was off.”
The video showed Carol pulling up to Samantha’s house, stepping out with Benji’s carrier, and handing my cat over with a pleased smile before driving off.
My blood boiled. “Send me that video,” I said. “Now.”
I turned back toward the house, my hands shaking. Carol and John were still there, chatting quietly.
“If you’re done with your little tantrum—” Carol started, but I cut her off.
“Samantha?” I spat her name like venom. “You gave my cat to Samantha?”
Carol’s eyes widened for just a second before she regained her composure. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Save it.” I held up Lisa’s phone, playing the video. “I have proof. What was the plan? You thought giving Benji to my high school bully would be some kind of sick punishment?”
John sighed. “Frances, calm down. Mom was just trying to help.”
“Help who? You? Her? Certainly not me.”
“This is ridiculous,” Carol snapped. “John, tell her she’s being ridiculous.”
I grabbed my car keys. “I’m getting my cat back. When I return, I want you both gone.”
—
Samantha’s door swung open after my second round of knocking. She took one look at me and sneered. “Well, if it isn’t ‘Frances, No Chances.’”
My fingers curled into fists. “Where’s my cat?”
“You mean my new cat?” Samantha folded her arms. “No backsies.”
“A gift from a thief is still stolen property. And Benji is microchipped.”
She scoffed. “Please. Who’s going to believe you?”
I held up my phone. “The police. And thousands of people online, once I post this video.”
Her face paled. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would. And while I’m at it, maybe I’ll post about how you and your friends shredded my homecoming dress. With receipts.”
She swallowed hard. Then, without another word, she turned, disappeared inside, and came back holding Benji. “Just take him,” she muttered. “And delete that video.”
I took my cat, holding him close, his purring a balm to my soul.
—
When I returned home, Carol and John were still there.
“How dare you—” Carol began.
“No. How dare you.” I set Benji down and turned to John. “I want a divorce.”
Carol gasped. “You ungrateful little—”
“Leave now, or I call the police.”
“This is my son’s house too!”
“Actually, it’s not.” I smirked. “His name isn’t on the deed. Just mine.”
Carol turned to John, shocked. “Is that true?”
John looked away.
“Oh, and you might want to stop giving him money,” I added. “He’s not just gambling it away. There’s a little club by the airport…”
“Stop!” John snapped. “We’re leaving.”
As the door shut behind them, the house fell silent. The scent of Carol’s perfume would fade. The weight of John’s presence would disappear.
Only Benji and I remained, together, exactly as it should be.
Smiling, I grabbed my phone. First, a call to my lawyer. Then, I was buying Lisa something special.
