He Stole My Cat for His Secret Lover

By the time I got home, it was already late. Alex's room was dark—he probably wasn't back yet.

I didn't bother waiting and focused on packing my things.

Just as I was dragging my suitcase toward the door, Alex called.

"Serena, Cheese just donated blood. I bought a bunch of snacks it likes to help it recover."

"The delivery's at the door. Go grab it."

I glanced at the pile of snacks on the floor, then tossed them straight into the trash.

"Cheese hasn't been able to have goat milk since it was a kitten. With this many goat-milk snacks, are you sure it's Cheese who likes them—or Salad?"

Alex muttered, "That's weird. They're from the same litter—how come Salad's fine with goat milk, but Cheese…"

My heart skipped.

So when he bought me a cat, he'd bought Lily one too.

But none of that mattered anymore.

I glanced at my suitcase and was about to hang up when Lily's anxious voice came through the receiver.

"Alex, Salad's not doing well. We might need Cheese to donate blood again."

Because I was still on the line, Alex instinctively refused.

"Cheese already donated once. Can't you find another cat?"

Lily sniffled. "It's the middle of the night. It's really hard to find one."

Alex sighed. "Serena, just bring Cheese over one more time."

"Is Cheese Salad's personal blood bank?"

I couldn't help it. "The way you play favorites makes Lily seem more like your girlfriend than I am."

Alex's patience snapped.

"It's a cat's life. Why do you have to drag me and Lily into everything? Serena, can you stop making a scene?"

"Even though you raised Cheese, don't forget—I paid for it…"

"If we're really going to argue about who Cheese belongs to, I can pull up the purchase receipt. What can you show?"

I didn't respond.

He'd finally said it out loud.

And for me, it was time to end this.

Cheese was the birthday gift Alex gave me.

When he first brought Cheese home, the kitten probably weighed less than half a pound.

Its body was frail, riddled with health problems.

My first instinct was that Alex had been scammed, and I dragged him back to demand a refund.

But he stopped me. He said this kitten was the runt of the litter.

It could never fight for milk. Its siblings bullied it constantly.

The kitten's situation reminded him of himself as a child—overlooked by his parents. So he brought it home, hoping I'd raise it well and help it grow strong.

Hearing that, my heart softened. I promised him I'd take good care of it.

He got emotional, a complete mess, and even suggested naming it using the first letters of our names.

I agreed happily. That's how we named the kitten Cheese.

But Cheese's health was just too fragile. Not long after we brought it home, it died.

Alex happened to be away on a business trip.

I was afraid he'd be heartbroken, so I made the decision on my own—I bought another kitten of the same breed with a similar look.

When it arrived, I realized the two kittens were obviously different.

But I'd already bought it. I couldn't just abandon it.

I was still nervous, worried Alex would notice when he got back.

But he didn't. He even said Cheese seemed much healthier now.

Looking back, it's almost funny.

The two kittens looked nothing alike, and he couldn't tell the difference.

That can only mean one thing—he never really cared.