"They like to chase mice," Cade points out. "I'm not sure that's the angle you want to go with."
Ruby giggles, and we start walking. Cade's apartment is apparently only five blocks from Main Street, in a converted house that's been divided into four units. The neighborhood is older, tree-lined streets with houses that have character—front porches with rocking chairs, flower boxes in windows, the kind of established feel that takes decades to develop.
"I'm on the second floor," Cade explains as we approach a pale blue house with white trim. "Like I said, it's not much. One bedroom, barely counts as a living room, kitchen the size of a closet."
"Sounds cozy," I offer, though my heart is pounding. I'm about to see how Cade lives, the space he's occupied for eight years. The life he built without me.
We climb the exterior stairs to the second floor, and Cade unlocks a door marked "2B." He hesitates before pushing it open.
"Last chance to change your mind about the mess," he warns.
"Dad," Ruby says with exaggerated patience. "I've seen Mom's desk when she's doing taxes. I can handle mess."
"Hey," I protest mildly. "That desk is organized chaos."
"It's chaos," Ruby agrees. "The organized part is debatable."
Cade chuckles and opens the door.
The apartment is exactly as he described. Small. The front door opens directly into the living room, which contains a well-worn couch, a coffee table with water rings, and a TV mounted on the wall. The kitchen is visible beyond, barely big enough for one person. A short hallway must lead to the bedroom and bathroom.
But it's not messy. It's clean, actually. Sparse, even. The kind of space that belongs to someone who doesn't accumulate things, who keeps his life contained to the essentials. There are no pictures on the walls, no personal items on display. Just furniture and function.
It makes my heart hurt.
"Scout?" Cade calls out. "We have visitors. Try to be nice."
A small gray and white tabby cat appears from the hallway, moving with the cautious grace cats have perfected. She stops when she sees us, her green eyes narrowing.
"Oh," Ruby breathes, immediately dropping to a crouch. "She's beautiful."
Scout regards Ruby with clear suspicion, her tail twitching.
"Don't move too fast," I murmur. "Let her come to you."
Ruby stays perfectly still, one hand extended slightly, letting Scout investigate at her own pace. The cat approaches slowly, sniffing Ruby's fingers, her ears swiveling to track every sound.
Then, to my surprise and Cade's apparent shock, Scout headbutts Ruby's hand.
"She likes me," Ruby whispers, joy radiating from every pore. "She actually likes me."
"She never likes anyone," Cade says, sounding genuinely baffled. "She hissed at my friend Asher for twenty minutes straight. Hudson she tolerates. Everyone else she ignores or attacks."
But Scout is rubbing against Ruby's legs now, purring loud enough for us to hear across the room. Ruby pets her, her touch gentle and sure, and Scout leans into it like they're old friends.
"You've been holding out on me," Ruby tells Scout seriously. "I could have been petting you this whole time."
I watch this unfold, my daughter and Cade's cat bonding instantly, and feel tears prick my eyes. It's such a small thing, a child petting a cat, but it feels monumental. Like another piece clicking into place, proof that Ruby belongs in Cade's life, that she fits here in ways neither of them expected.
"I can't believe she's doing this," Cade mutters, moving to stand beside me. "Eight years. Eight years of Scout being antisocial, and Ruby shows up and suddenly she's the cat whisperer."
"Ruby has a way with animals," I say softly. "Always has. There's a stray cat in our neighborhood that won't let anyone near it except Ruby. She named him Shadow and he follows her home from school sometimes."
"Of course she does." There's affection in his voice, pride. "She gets that from you. You were always good with animals too."
The comment catches me off guard. "Was I?"
"Yeah. Remember that time we found that injured bird in your parents' yard? You made me drive to three different stores to find the right supplies to make it a nest. Stayed up half the night feeding it with an eyedropper."
