Crouch. Come on. Just crouch down and pick her up.
I couldn't.
I grabbed all three pairs of shoes at once and stood instead.
Stepped over her.
Went back to the duffel and threw 'em in.
Behind me, Cat sat down exactly where I'd been. Waiting. Quiet the way animals got quiet when they'd figured out somethin' you hadn't said out loud.
I finished packing.
I sat down on the edge of the bed.
And I stared at the wall some more.
The wall didn't have anything to say about none of it either. It was just a wall—half-primed, the patch where Brody had fixed the drywall still a slightly different shade than the rest. I'd watched him do that patch. Watched him sand it with his tongue caught between his teeth and his baseball hat turned backwards—the way that made every girl in town turn their head his way.
Still, I sat there.
Cat walked over and sat at my feet. Looked up at me. Then—slow, careful, like she was approachin' a wild horse—she put one gentle paw on my boot.
Just the one.
I looked down at her.
She blinked.
Slow.
The cat version of I love you.Brody had told me that once, back when I still pretended I didn't care.
I couldn't return it.
I couldn't crouch down and pick her up and press my face into her warm body and let her purr do the thing it did that made the inside of my chest feel less like a clenched fist.
I couldn't even reach down and scratch behind her ears.
I just looked at her.
And she looked at me.
And after a long moment, she took her paw off my boot, turned around, and walked out of the room.
That was the part that almost broke me.
Not Wyatt's voice in my head sayin' words I'd been tryin' to outrun for sixteen years. Not Brody's face in the arena dirt. Not Sassy's hug at the door.
A small black cat takin' her paw off my boot because I couldn't give her anything back.
Brody would.
That was the thing.
That was the whole math of it.
Brody would pick her up. Brody would scratch behind her ears and let her make biscuits on his stomach and talk to her like she was a person, which she half believed she was anyway. He'd feed her the good wet food and let her sleep on his pillow and love her the way he loved every damn thing that crossed his path.
