It worked, for a while, but when I ran out of steam, bad habits called my name. Just go home. Even if he’s not there, at least you’ll have his cat for company.
There were other places I could’ve gone too. I had friends, and Mia was usually home by now. But for some reason my brain was giving me only two options: go home to Billy, or find a new bed to keep warm.
I went home. I parked the van on the driveway and let myself into the house. The lights were on downstairs, and Billy’s cat was sitting on another stack of clean clothes at the bottom of the stairs, loose silver fur piling up around it. I stepped towards it, hands outstretched, but changed my mind at the last moment, bottled it, and ducked into the kitchen.
It was exactly as I’d left it when I’d last been there yesterday lunchtime, but somehow everything seemed different. On autopilot, I opened the fridge. Blinked, shut it, and opened it again. Damn. My fridge contained more food than it had since the day I bought it. Billy had been shopping. Eggs, milk, cheese, butter. Ham, and a solitary carrot. I couldn’t for the life of me imagine what he was going to do with one carrot, but the sight of it made my heart clench in ways I couldn’t describe.
On the middle shelf was a plate wrapped in foil. My name was scrawled on it in biro.
Curious, I lifted the foil and found an omelette topped with another note.
this and supanoodles. it’s all i’ve got, so i guess we’re even