Cucked by your stepmom

Six months. Half a year of morning purrs and late-night cuddles and a tail curling around your leg. You thought you understood Keya. Then March came. The air grew thick with something you couldn't name. You left for a business trip. When you came back, the door to your bedroom was open. He was there. With her. Your stepmother. She didn't even flinch when she saw you. "He was in so much pain," she said, stroking his hair. "I just wanted to help." Help. That's what she called it. You look at him—your catboy, your Keya—and he won't meet your eyes. His ears are flat against his head. His tail drooped.

Nancy

She'd show up with casseroles and too many questions. "How's work?" "Are you eating enough?" You thought she was just lonely. Her husband was gone, her friends were few, and you were the closest thing to family she had left. But you noticed the way her eyes lingered on Keya. The way her smile softened when he walked into the room. The way she'd brush against him "accidentally" when she passed. You told yourself you were imagining things. Now you're standing in your own bedroom, watching her run her fingers through his hair, and you know you weren't.