One Cat Pic, One Divorce

On our tenth wedding anniversary, my wife's secretary, Ryan, posted a photo on social media. I took off my wedding ring and asked for a divorce. Madison looked stunned. "You're divorcing me over a picture of me with a cat? What kind of childish stunt is this?" She was severely allergic to cat fur. For her, I gave away the cat I'd loved for seven years. In ten years of marriage, I'd never even thought about getting another pet. Yet she let Ryan keep a ragdoll cat in the office. Cat fur was everywhere, but she'd just smile, pop an allergy pill, and say the cat helped her relax. There were more photos of that cat on her phone than pictures of our family. When Madison realized I was serious, she snapped. She pointed at our five-year-old daughter, sitting in Ryan's arms. "If you divorce me, you'll never get custody of Bella. And don't expect her to take care of you when you're old!" I looked at Bella calmly. She glared back, her little hand gripping Ryan's shirt. I smiled. I didn't want my cheating wife anymore. Why would I want an ungrateful brat too? Chapter 1 On our tenth anniversary, Madison Seidel didn't come home. I sat alone at the table, staring at all the food gone cold, and cut the first slice of cake. The sugary smell of frosting hung in the empty dining room. Like the universe was laughing at me. Then my phone lit up. Not Madison calling. Ryan Foster is posting. Her shiny new secretary. A photo of Madison holding a snow-white ragdoll cat. Her head was lowered, her smile soft. Real. A smile I hadn't seen in forever. The cat was curled in her arms, blue eyes half-shut, one paw parked on her suit jacket like it owned the place. Ryan's caption was all bright and sweet, like always: [My boss is working so hard! Good thing Marshmallow is here with its healing magic.] My finger stayed on the photo. Long enough for the screen to dim by itself. My stomach twisted. A sharp pain ripped through me, ten years late and finally breaking free from the scar tissue wrapped around my heart. Slowly, I slid the platinum ring off my left hand. The one engraved with our initials. One painful turn at a time. The beep of the door code cut through the silence. Madison was home. She smelled faintly of alcohol. And cologne that wasn't mine. Her eyes landed on me at the dining table, then on the untouched food. Her brows pulled together instantly. "Why are you still up? I told you I had an important business dinner tonight. I told you not to wait for me." I didn't answer. I just set the ring in front of her. Her gaze dropped to it. The irritation on her face vanished, replaced by confusion. "Lugh Landon." She used my full name. Never a good sign. "What childish stunt are you pulling now?" I looked up and met her eyes. "Madison Seidel, let's get divorced." The air seemed to disappear from the room. She stared at me for a long moment. Then she laughed and reached for my hand. "Have you lost it? Just because I missed our anniversary? I'll make it up to you tomorrow. Pick whatever car you want." I pulled my hand away. "What is this really about? There has to be a reason." I picked up my phone, opened the photo, and slid it across the table. She glanced at it, looking even more confused. "This? A picture of me and a cat? Ryan felt bad leaving it home alone, so he brought it to the office. Are you seriously upset over this?" "I am." My voice sounded hollow. Was it just a photo? No. It was a knife. A knife was buried deep in the oldest wound I had. The wound was named Stella. "Madison." I looked her straight in the eye. "You're severely allergic to cat fur. "You told me the doctor said another exposure could send you into shock. That it could be life-threatening. "So Stella had to go. The cat I'd raised for seven years. Because you said, 'If you love me, you'll care about my health.'" Madison's expression tightened. Stella was just an orange-and-white cat. Nothing special. I'd found it during my junior year of college, curled up under a bike shelter on a snowy day. It was small enough to fit in my palm, shaking from the cold. I used money from my living expenses to buy milk and raise it. It stayed with me through my last two years of college. It kept me company through papers, all-nighters, graduation, and those rough first days after I started working. In that unfamiliar city, it was the closest thing I had to family. Chapter 2 When I met Madison, Stella had already been with me for five years. Madison used to call it cute. Sometimes, she'd even pat its head. That changed when we started talking marriage and she spent her first night in my tiny apartment. The next morning, she woke up sneezing, eyes red, and told me she had a severe cat allergy. "Lugh, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but my condition..." She looked helpless. "You know if you love me, you'll think about my health, right?" After weeks of stress and hesitation, I finally started looking for a new home for Stella. Before I found one, Madison said she'd already handled it. It was done. No matter how much I hated it, I had no choice but to accept it. But two weeks later, I found Stella's body in a reeking underground parking garage. It had been tortured to death. Its body was torn apart and scattered in a filthy corner. I only recognized it by a small patch of orange-and-white fur. That day, I held what was left and cried in that parking garage until I collapsed. I called Madison and demanded the adopter's name. She stayed quiet for a long time. Then she said softly, "I'm sorry, Lugh. "I found them online. I just wanted the problem gone fast. "I was scared you wouldn't let go, so I lied." It felt like lightning split me open. That was the first time I questioned us. In the end, I forgave her. With enough sweet words and promises, I let myself believe her. I told myself she loved me. That she cared about our future. I blamed Stella's death on my own stupidity. My own weakness. The guilt and grief stayed buried inside me like a poisoned thorn for ten years. For ten years, I never touched another cat. And now, with a single photo, Madison had shown me the truth. My decade of self-punishment. My guilt. My pain. Stella's horrific death. None of it had mattered. It had all been a joke. Something flashed across Madison's face. Like she finally remembered. But she still refused to back down. "That was years ago. Medicine's better now. There are allergy pills. If I take them, I'm fine." "Allergy pills?" I laughed. My eyes burned. "So you'd rather take medication every day than keep his cat out of your office. "But my Stella wasn't allowed a single corner of our home?" "That's different!" she shot back, her voice rising. "Stella was just a mixed-breed cat. It shed everywhere and wasn't clean. Ryan's cat is purebred. It's well-behaved, and—" "And what?" I cut her off. "And he's Ryan, while I'm just Lugh. Isn't that it?" She didn't answer. The color drained from her face. Ten years. Because of her so-called allergy, I never once thought about getting another pet. Our floors were spotless. Not a single stray hair anywhere. I lived like a machine, following every one of her rules for cleanliness and health. And now she was telling me all of it could've been fixed with a tiny pill. So it wasn't that the allergy couldn't be managed. I just wasn't worth the effort. When she realized I wasn't backing down, the irritation in her eyes slowly hardened into anger. And embarrassment. "Lugh, stop this. We've been married for ten years. Are we really getting divorced over a cat? What will people think? "And Bella? Have you even thought about Bella? She's only five. How can she grow up without a father?" Bella. The name tasted bitter in my mouth. "Madison, be honest with yourself. "Does Bella even need me as her father anymore?" The color drained from Madison's face. Chapter 3 Just then, a soft knock came from the front door. "Madison? You left your phone in the car. I brought it up." Ryan's voice. Madison reacted as if she'd just been handed a lifeline. She hurried over and opened the door. Ryan stood outside holding Marshmallow. Beside him was a sleepy little girl. My daughter. Bella. "Mr. Foster..." Bella rubbed her eyes and grabbed Ryan's shirt, her voice clingy. Ryan looked at me with an apologetic smile. Though there was something smug underneath it. "Sorry, Lugh. Bella wanted to wait for her mom and ended up falling asleep in the car. I didn't want her catching a cold, so I carried her up." As he spoke, he pulled Bella against his side with practiced ease. Like he belonged here. Madison jumped in right away. "See? Ryan's better with kids than you are. Bella loves spending time with him." My eyes settled on Bella. When she saw me, she didn't run over for a hug like she used to. Instead, she pressed closer to Ryan. Her eyes looked so much like Madison's, and they were full of hostility. I thought I'd gotten used to it. I hadn't. It still hurt. When had Bella started pulling away from me? Probably around the time Ryan started showing up at our apartment more and more, always with some work-related excuse. He never said no to snacks. Never told her it was bath time. Never told her to go to bed. With Ryan, life was all treats and fun. And me? I was the bad guy. The one who allowed one piece of chocolate, told her too much TV was bad for her eyes, and had her in bed by nine. "Daddy" slowly turned into a flat "Hey." The healthy breakfasts I made got shoved away with a frown. "I don't want that! I want the cream cakes Mr. Foster buys me!" When I asked her to clean up her toys, she'd snap back without blinking. "Why should I? Mr. Foster said girls are supposed to be spoiled!" The worst moment came when I had a fever and spent the whole day in bed. Bella came home from school, saw me barely able to move, and didn't care at all. She marched to my bedside and demanded, "Why aren't you making dinner yet? I'm hungry! Mommy said a man who can't even take care of the apartment is a useless loser!" I stared at the cruelty on her face and went cold all over. I'd spent five hard years raising her. Another man won her over in months with treats and toys. Now she was just another weapon he could use against me. And Madison didn't just allow it. She encouraged it. "Look at you. You can't even handle one kid. Bella's happy the second Ryan shows up. You should learn from him." "Bella's still young. Stop dumping so many rules on her. Girls deserve to be spoiled." "So she said a few things. Do you really need to sulk over it? You're a stay-at-home dad. You can't even handle that?" Those words were dull blades, carving into my heart day after day. Only today did I finally see the truth. This apartment had stopped being my home a long time ago. Seeing the look on my face, Madison seemed to think she'd finally found a way to control me. She stepped forward and pointed at Bella, who was still tucked against Ryan. Her voice turned sharp. "Lugh, I'll say this one last time. If you divorce me, you're not getting custody of Bella. The court gives custody to the parent with better financial resources. "You haven't worked in ten years. What exactly do you think you can compete with? And when you're old, don't expect Bella to take care of you." I looked at Bella, clutching Ryan's shirt like she was afraid he'd disappear. Then I looked at the smug smile pulling at Ryan's lips. In that moment, the resentment and heartbreak I'd carried for ten years suddenly faded. I smiled. "Madison, I don't even want a cheating piece of trash like you anymore. "So why would I want the ungrateful brat you've already ruined?"