← All Stories

What the Cat Knew

cableorangeswimminghatcat

The cable box blinked—three solid pulses, then darkness—mirroring exactly how Marcus felt about his marriage. Across the room, Elena sat in his old fedora, the one she'd stolen freshman year of college and refused to return. She wasn't watching him anymore. She was watching their orange tabby, Darwin, thread a needle between her ankles, purring like nothing was wrong.

'We should talk about the paperwork,' she said, not looking up.

Marcus nodded, throat tight. For months he'd been swimming upstream through mortgage calculations and custody logistics while she'd already dried herself off and packed her bags. The lawyer said their income was too intertwined for a clean break. Nothing about this would be clean.

Darwin jumped onto the coffee table, between them, and knocked over an orange juice glass. The puddle spread toward Marcus's bare feet, sticky and bright against the dark wood.

'I'll get it,' Elena started, standing up.

'Leave it.' Marcus gestured with his chin. 'Let it sit there. Like everything else we've been avoiding.'

She sank back onto the couch, removing the hat. Her hair was flat where it had been pressed down. 'You're being dramatic.'

'Am I?' He laughed, sharp and humorless. 'The cable's out. We haven't touched each other in six months. I found the divorce papers in your desk three weeks ago, Elena. You didn't even hide them well.'

Darwin padded toward Marcus, leaving orange-juiced paw prints on the rug. Marcus scratched behind the cat's ears, the only honest affection in the room. The cat had known before either of them. Darwin had stopped sleeping at the foot of their bed months ago, choosing Marcus's office instead, as if already choosing sides.

'I didn't want to hurt you,' Elena whispered.

'Me either.' Marcus stood up, stepping around the spreading juice. 'But here we are, swimming in it anyway.'

He took his hat from her hands—the last thing she still had of his—and walked toward the door. Darwin followed. The cable box flashed again, one final pulse, then surrendered to the dark.