Chapter 1

My girlfriend was allergic to cat fur.

When she was seven, her stepmother deliberately locked her in with a stray cat until she was covered in scratches and hives and had to be rushed to the hospital.

After that, Georgette Kaufman hated everything to do with cats.

But I had an orange tabby named Fluffball. Six years I'd had him. He was family, the same as any person.

Once, I got a little of Fluffball's fur on my clothes by accident.

Georgette wouldn't let me touch her for a week and told me to keep my distance from him.

My best friend blamed me for it too.

"Don't be an idiot. You'd really hurt your girlfriend over some alley cat?"

I felt guilty, so I moved Fluffball to another place and kept him there alone.

Then came the night of the typhoon, in the early morning hours.

Fluffball had a sudden heart attack. I couldn't get a cab, so I begged my girlfriend to help me get him to the hospital.

"Georgette, I was in a car accident before. I've got a real block about driving now. Can you help me? I promise I'll keep Fluffball in his carrier..."

But she said, "Sorry, Drew James. I'm swamped with work. And just thinking about a cat in the car, I can't drive."

I called Frank Gilbert, my best friend who'd done animal rescue before. Busy signal.

I ran out into the rain, Fluffball in my arms, sprinting for the animal hospital with everything I had.

But I was still too late.

The last thing I expected was to see Frank Gilbert and Georgette Kaufman standing right at the door.

Georgette was holding a few filthy stray cats.

"Thank you, Frank, Georgette. You're both so busy and you still came out in the middle of the night for our stray-cat rescue event."

A boy who looked like a college student was looking at her with gratitude and awe.

Her arms were covered in hives and bloody scratch marks, and she didn't care in the least.

She dewormed the kittens with practiced ease and said gently,

"As long as I can help you save them."

Beside her, Frank grinned and teased,

"What can I say? The second Georgette heard you crying, it broke her heart."

The little kittens mewed.

But the Fluffball in my arms had stopped breathing. He was going cold, stiffening.

So it turned out the one people couldn't stand was never Fluffball. It was me.

Then I would let go.

...

On my phone, my chat with my best friend Frank Gilbert was frozen an hour back.

"Frank, you're at the same company as Georgette Kaufman. Did you see her tonight?"

"Fluffball's sick, but I don't know where she is, and I can't get through to you."

His reply was:

"We're all working overtime. We're busy. Can you not be so paranoid?"

"It's one little alley cat. Is it really worth getting this worked up?"

And now, the two people who'd said they were busy were out on the street rescuing strays.

I stood there in my pajamas and slippers, soaked to the skin.

Watching them through the hospital's glass window like a wreck.

Frank fed a cat with one hand and joked to the boy beside him,

"Rupert Henson, only you could spot a few strays on the roadside and get the CEO of Newlink Tech herself out here with one phone call."

"After all these years, I guess I'm a witness for the two of you. When you get married, don't forget to invite me to the dinner."

Color rose in the boy's face.

Then his eyes lit up and he said,

"Georgette, one of them's a little ragdoll. I want to adopt it."

Georgette scooped up the little ragdoll.

The expensive dress she was wearing was shredded in no time.

But she wasn't the least bit angry.

She even gave the boy a gentle kiss on the cheek.

And agreed without a second's hesitation.

"Of course, Rupert. How did you get to be so kind?"

"Don't worry, I'll take it home with me later, and I'll handle the litter from now on. I'll take good care of our little cat."

She was smiling, happy, not the slightest bit forced.

So Georgette Kaufman, who hated cats most and was a clean freak,

could offer to keep a cat and scoop its litter for the person she loved.

Only that person wasn't me.

In that moment, I suddenly regretted all these years I'd shortchanged Fluffball for her sake.

A cat's life is so short.

How could I have left him all alone in that apartment.

I thought of him crying at the camera over and over, tireless.

I thought of the way he'd lie by the door, waiting so patiently for me to come see him.

Something twisted hard in my chest.

Fluffball was my family. My dad bought him for me before he died.

That day, he patted my shoulder with his withered hand and looked at me like he couldn't bear to go.

"Drew's loved cats since he was little. From now on, let this one stay with you in our place."

The rain came down hard that night. I lost my father.

Six years later, in another downpour,

I lost Fluffball, I lost Georgette Kaufman, the one I loved most, and I lost my best friend.

Stroking Fluffball's cold, matted fur, I let the tears fall without a sound.