Gratitude flashes across her face before she turns away. The connection between us pulses, though it’s clear it will take more work for her to acknowledge it, and after meeting Auren, I now understand why.
He hurt her so much she doesn’t even recognize this tug every time we’re near.
Mixie inches further into the living room, sniffing the corners of the couch, the edge of the coffee table, and the planters by the window. She moves with caution, reacquainting herself until she reaches the cat bed. There, she circles twice and then settles onto the blanket.
Emily sinks onto the couch, hands clasped between her knees, attention fixed on her cat as she explores. With each passing minute, the tightness in her shoulders unwinds, her breathing settling as Mixie reclaims her space.
“Thank you,” she says without looking at me. “For making me do this.”
I sit beside her, leaving more distance between us than I want. “You would have done it, eventually.”
“Would I?” Her fingers twist together, knuckles whitening. “I let him take her without a fight. I let him convince me she was better off with him.”
“You were hurt,” I say. “People we care about always find the places that cause the most pain.”
Mixie approaches the couch, her attention fixed on Emily. She stretches up on her back legs, front paws pressing into the cushion beside Emily’s leg, and a soft, questioning trill rises from her throat.
Emily’s hand trembles as she extends it toward the cat. “Hey, Mixie-girl. Remember me?”
Mixie sniffs her fingers, whiskers brushing Emily’s skin. Then, with no further hesitation, she leaps onto the couch and climbs onto Emily’s lap, turning in three tight circles before settling with her paws tucked beneath her chest.
“Oh,” Emily breathes, the single syllable cracking with emotion.
“Well, if that’s not the perfect loaf, I can’t imagine what would be,” I whisper.
Her composure shatters all at once, tears spilling down her cheeks in silent streams as sheburies her fingers in Mixie’s fur. Her shoulders shake with suppressed sobs, each breath catching in her throat as she struggles to contain her grief and relief.
I reach out, uncertain of my welcome. “Emily?”
She doesn’t pull away as I expected. Instead, she leans into my touch, just a little, allowing me to support a fraction of her weight.
The trust in that small movement steals my breath.
My arm curves around her shoulders, holding her steady as she buries her face in Mixie’s fur. The cat begins to purr, the sound vibrating between them.
“I missed you so much,” she murmurs, her voice muffled by black fur. “I’m never letting you go again. Never.”
I stroke my thumb across Emily’s shoulder, offering what comfort I can while giving her space to process this reunion.
Emily lifts her head, eyes red-rimmed but clearer. “She remembers me.”
“Of course, she does.” Relief washes through me as her tears taper off. “You’re her person.”
Mixie kneads Emily’s thigh, claws catching in the denim of her jeans before retracting. Emilywinces but doesn’t move, accepting the small pain as part of the gift of having her cat back.
Unease settles in my stomach as I recall Auren’s parting words.We’ll discuss this later, Emily,withoutyour guard dog.
Emily straightens. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lie, unwilling to disturb this fragile peace. “Everything’s perfect.”
She huffs at me. “I can smell your unease.”
“I don’t like your ex.”
“Some days, I can’t remember why I ever did, either. He’s going to make things hard after this.” She scratches behind Mixie’s ears, earning a louder purr. “But I’m not alone now.”
The simple statement carries more weight than she intends, settling in my chest with a gentle tug. Not alone. Two words that have defined my life in their absence, until yesterday, when Emily answered my desperate call for help.