"Joshua, let's get a divorce."
Joshua Delgado's head snapped up, his brow creased in annoyance.
"Paige, what is wrong with you now? Are you seriously competing with a cat?"
His face flushed with irritation. A cold knot tightened in my chest. The gash on my ankle was still weeping blood, but the ache in my heart cut far deeper.
"I've told you before," I said, my voice trembling. "In this house, it's either the cat or me. You can't have both."
"It's an animal, Paige. How can you compare yourself to it?"
"Or is there something about this cat you're not telling me?"
I glanced between him and Brooklyn.
We'd brought Coco home the day Joshua and I started dating. The cat was vicious—biting and scratching everyone who came near. Everyone except Joshua.
Yet whenever we passed strays on the street, Joshua recoiled in disgust. He didn't like animals.
But Coco was different. Despite his cold nature and demanding schedule, he doted on that beast.
I was allergic to cat hair. For seven years, I swallowed allergy pills daily just to survive in my own home, grooming and feeding a creature that loathed me. My arms were a roadmap of scars from her claws.
Joshua never intervened. He let the cat run wild, claiming I was overreacting, that I was petty for disciplining an animal.
But today? Coco had barely grazed Brooklyn, and Joshua lost his mind. For the first time in seven years, he actually struck the cat.
I looked at Brooklyn. Caught the glint of triumph in her eyes before she masked it with fragile innocence. She twisted her fingers together, her voice trembling.
"I'm so sorry, Paige. Did I scare Coco? Is that why she attacked you?" She looked up at Joshua with watery eyes. "Joshua, please... Paige is upset. You should comfort her. I'll just go."
She moved to stand, but Joshua caught her wrist, forcing her back onto the sofa.
"Paige, stop this nonsense," he snapped, glaring at me. "The cat doesn't know any better. Brooklyn finally visits, and you choose now to throw a tantrum? What's the point of this scene? If you're that miserable, then leave."
Tears stung my eyes. After seven years of marriage, it still hurt to be discarded so easily.
"You're kicking me out?" I let out a dry laugh. "Tell me, Joshua. Is this about the cat, or is it about Brooklyn?"
His jaw clenched. He didn't admit it. He didn't deny it either.
Brooklyn blushed, turning to me with an apologetic expression that didn't reach her eyes. "Paige, please. Joshua didn't mean it. He was just worried about my injury..."
"Oh, spare me," I scoffed. "Your Joshua certainly cares, doesn't he? If you hadn't been a minor seven years ago, you'd be Mrs. Delgado right now, wouldn't you?"
Color drained from Joshua's face. His voice dropped to a dangerous growl.
"Paige Swanson! Watch your mouth. You've lost your mind. You're being completely unreasonable!"
I didn't wait for another insult. Grabbing my phone, I stormed out into the night.
I checked into a hotel. Joshua didn't follow. By midnight, my phone remained silent. Not a single call.
Whatever hope I had left turned to ice.
Then a notification popped up. Joshua had posted a Moment.
A photo of him and Brooklyn, heads close together, feeding the cat. They looked like a perfect, happy family.
The caption hit me like a blow:
The Coco we raised together seven years ago has gotten so big. It's been so long, yet she still recognizes her mommy. She really is too smart.
