The Bull by the Horns

Elena's cancer had come back, and here was Julian, her oldest friend, still talking about his latest crypto investment like it mattered.

"You're chasing a bull market with your retirement savings," Elena said, tracing the scar on her wrist where her cat, Lucifer, had scratched her during the first round of chemo.

"Bull markets don't chase you back," Julian said, not meeting her eyes.

Lucifer, now fifteen and arthritic, jumped onto Elena's lap with painful slowness. The cat had outlived two marriages, Elena's parents, and now, probably, Elena too.

"I'm not doing the treatment this time," she said.

Julian's glass hit the table with a sharp crack.

"You're just giving up? That's bullshit, Elena."

"I've done six rounds of poison, Julian. My body needs a break."

"Your body needs to fight."

She'd always loved how stubborn he was—how he'd once confronted a bull that wandered into their college campus, standing his ground while everyone else ran. The animal had simply walked around him. Sometimes that worked. Sometimes the bull just trampled you anyway.

"Remember when we were twenty," she said, "and we swore we'd never become people who talked about nothing but money and mortality?"

"We're not twenty anymore."

"No. We're not." She stroked Lucifer's coarse fur. "Remember what you said about that bull? That sometimes you have to stand your ground even when you're scared?"

"I was showing off."

"It worked, though. The bull walked around you."

Julian's phone buzzed—another crypto alert. He ignored it, for the first time all evening.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"I need you to stop being brave for me. I need you to sit with me while I'm not brave. I need you to hold my hand when the cat dies, and help me figure out what to do with him when I'm gone, because I can't bear the thought of him in a shelter."

Julian's eyes filled with tears he'd been suppressing since her diagnosis.

"He's a mean cat," he said thickly.

"He hates everyone but me." Elena smiled. "He'll need you to earn his trust. Feed him the expensive food. Let him sleep on your leather jacket. Never look him in the eye too long."

"You think he'll let me?"

"Start by admitting you're scared. Cats can smell bullshit, Julian."

He reached across the table, took her hand. The bull market could crash, his investments could fail. In the meantime, there was this.