The Girlfriend Only Allergic to My Cat, I Don't Want Her Anymore

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.

I set Fluffball back in the carrier and pushed open the door of the animal hospital.

Right into the eyes of Georgette Kaufman and Frank Gilbert.

The same flash of panic ran through both of them.

"Drew, it's so late, why are you..."

Georgette seemed to have forgotten completely that Fluffball's heart had stopped.

She stepped forward on instinct, putting herself between me and the cat and the boy.

I stared straight at her and asked, my voice cold,

"Georgette, I had no idea you loved cats this much. A stray-rescue volunteer, even coming out in the middle of the night to look after them."

Her face went ugly, and she said in a low voice,

"Drew, let me explain..."

But a clear, bright male voice cut her off.

"It's trueSister Georgette is the biggest cat lover I've ever met!"

The boy's eyes shone like a fawn's. He hadn't caught the sarcasm at all.

"For two whole years she's never missed a single volunteer event. Even last New Year's Eve she was here helping me look after the strays!"

Last New Year's Eve.

Georgette had taken a phone call, said something about work, thrown on her coat, and left.

On that loud, family-filled night, I was so alone.

I asked her if I could come by the apartment and hold Fluffball.

She wrote back fast:

"Drew, you know how it is. Every time you've been holding that stinking cat, I don't even want to come near you."

"It's a holiday. You wouldn't really be so cruel as to put me through that ??"

In the end I sat with a plate of cold dumplings and waited for her all night at home.

The boy was still going through the list.

"And did you know, the cat food and the wet food she buys for the strays are all imported brands. You can tell she did her homework."

Something came back to me.

She'd once asked me which brand of wet cat food was the best.

I'd thought she wanted to buy some for Fluffball.

"Fluffball, say thank you to Mommy."

I'd held Fluffball's paw and made him do a little bow toward Georgette.

Filmed a video and sent it over.

But the file showed as never received.

In the end I never got any wet food either.

So it turned out she'd been buying it for the strays.

"Ohbig brother, you know Sister Georgette?"

The boy looked at me, curious.

"I do. I'm her"

"The three of us used to be classmates. High school."

Frank cut me off, shooting me frantic looks.

"I'll take him home. Rupert, you two carry on."

He finished, gripped my wrist hard, and pulled me away.

And on Georgette's face, a pleading look surfaced too.

All at once it felt pointless.

I gave a vague nod and turned to leave.

"Drew, it's not what you think!"

Behind me, Frank came after me, out of breath.

"We grew up together. We're brothers."

"Then I don't know why you'd help an outsider, a stranger, lie to me."

I threw it back at him, my eyes red.

"Rupert isn't a stranger!"

"Don't talk about him like that. His family and the Kaufmans go way back. It's only that his parents went bankrupt and then had an accident that they lost touch!"

Frank was worked up.

It was the first time he'd ever laid into me like that.

"He's spent years with both parents dead, standing on his own, and it wasn't easy for him to make it into college. A young master like you would never understand!"

"And besides, the two of them were meant to be, arranged by the elders. If we're counting who came first, you're the one who cut in. You're the third party here."

"He's kind, he's gentle, he leans on us with his whole heart. I will not let you wreck all of that."

I held the carrier tight against me and looked at him, unable to believe it.

"And what about me?"

Frank gently smoothed back my rain-soaked hair.

Then he draped his coat over me and said softly,

"Hasn't Georgette been good enough to you? Some things, you can't take too seriously."

I wanted to say, Frank, have you forgotten? I've taken things seriously since I was a kid.

When those thugs from outside school were bullying you, when everyone told you to let it go, I was the one who charged in and settled it for you.

But I didn't say it. Too tired, I left him with only one line:

"Forget it. I'll pretend I never had a brother like you."

The rain hadn't stopped. I booked a pet funeral service for Fluffball, a proper farewell, and sent him ahead early.

Then, like a soaked, wandering ghost.

I walked home in a daze.

When I opened my phone, I somehow landed on Rupert Henson's account.

The account had been active for two years.

It was packed with stray-cat rescue posts, and Georgette Kaufman was in every single one.

On the overpass at two in the morning, in the underground garage of some run-down apartment complex, in a filthy landfill.

And under each one, Frank Gilbert had left a like and a comment.

"Wow, what a perfect match! Such a sweet, kindhearted couple!"

The most recent post was a photo Rupert had taken of Georgette from behind. The caption read:

"Thank you to Georgette, who's allergic to cats but still won't quit the rescue work! And who donated half a million to our shelter!"

The comments were all teasing.

"She's obviously doing it for you. I can hear the wheels turning all the way from overseas!"

Before I knew it, my face was wet with tears again.

At last I shut the phone off, bought a plane ticket, and sent a message to my aunt.

"Aunt Vivian, is that company of yours in Switzerland still hiring?"

Not long after, the smart lock clicked. Georgette was back.

The instant she saw me, her eyes went red.

She crouched down carefully in front of me and said,

"Drew, let me explain. I swear, I only felt sorry for him. Nothing crossed the line between us."

"Fate put someone drifting and alone right beside me. He runs around all day volunteering, he needed looking after, and I couldn't bring myself to..."

"Really? There are plenty of people drifting and alone in this world. How come I never see you helping all of them?"

I said it with a sneer.

Georgette's face went a shade paler.

She was quiet for a long moment. Then, the way she always did, she brought over a bowl of hot ginger tea she'd made herself.

"Drew, don't be angry. You're freezing, you got caught in the rain. You'll catch a cold."

She coaxed, and then, without waiting for an answer, threw herself into my arms.

"It's my fault. Hit me, yell at me, whatever you want."

"But you have to take care of yourself. It took so much to get you healthy again."

It came back to me all at once.

When I first met her, I was still buried in the grief of losing my father.

Stomach trouble, headaches, insomnia, over and over.

It was Georgette who looked after me, all three meals, never missing one.

Who bought the medicine and hunted down folk remedies to get my body back in shape.

In the end I put on weight, and she'd grown much thinner.

And somewhere along the way, she'd found another young, simple boy who needed her care.

The smell of stray cats still clung to her.

It turned my stomach. I reached out and pushed her away.

"Georgette, let's break up."

She looked up at me, staring like she couldn't believe it.

"Drew, but we're almost ready to settle down."

"Just because I didn't go with you today to take Fluffball to the vet, because of Rupert?"

"Over a cat? Is it really worth this?"

"You want to know? Fluffball is dead."

I answered her calmly.

"You asked why I showed up there, didn't you? Because I was carrying Fluffball while his heart was giving out, running to the animal hospital like a madman."

"Because you, who are allergic to cats, were out on a stray-cat rescue and couldn't spare a minute to drive me."

"You didn't care, because he was my cat, not Rupert's."

Every sound in Georgette's throat died there.

She couldn't meet the disappointment in my eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

I turned my head away. I didn't want to hear any more.

Before long, the sky lightened.

I took a cab to the place where Fluffball's farewell was being held.

Georgette followed silently behind me and came in too.

"Drew, I... want to see Fluffball off, one last time."

I ignored her.

Fluffball lay quietly on the little bed, snacks and toys arranged all around him.

I bent my head and cried until I was a mess.

Just then a noise broke out at the door.

"Young man, there's a client holding a farewell in there! You can't go in!"

The next second Rupert burst in, out of breath.

"Georgette, Frank said you were here, and I found you after all!"

"You didn't pick up when I called. Little Buddy, the one we adopted, suddenly got stressed out and won't eat!"

"I really don't know what to do. Can you come look at Little Buddy with me..."

Georgette's face flooded with worry in an instant.

"What happened? Wasn't he drinking goat milk just yesterday? I..."

She glanced at me, hesitating.

Rupert seemed to sense something. He rushed over and grabbed my wrist.

"Come on, let Georgette stay for this. Your cat isn't coming back anyway. She's better off going to save Buddy, the one we adopted."

"If nothing else, we'll pick out the most expensive purebred cat and make it up to you, all right?"

I moved to shake him off without thinking.

But Rupert wouldn't let go.

In the scramble he stepped back and knocked over the little bed Fluffball was lying on.

A loud thud.

Fluffball's body hit the floor, the little toys and snacks scattering everywhere, a total mess.

In that moment, I finally lost it.

I shoved Rupert to the ground and screamed until my voice broke:

"Why would you barge in here! Couldn't you see someone was holding a farewell?"

"Your cat won't eat, what does that have to do with me! Are you sick? Get out!"

"Shut up! Stop it!"

Georgette pushed Rupert behind her and swung her hand hard across my face.

A sharp slap, and my head snapped to the side.

"Drew James, how can you be so unreasonable right now! What are you doing, bullying a boy this young?"

Her face was dark, her voice cold:

"The cat is already dead. I apologized, and I promised to buy you an even better one. What more do you want?"

With that, she took Rupert's hand and hurried off.

I wiped away my tears, lifted Fluffball up, and set him back in place.

I finished saying goodbye to Fluffball on my own.

Then I packed my things and went back to the little apartment where I'd once kept him.

I'd barely gotten home when my aunt called, her voice breaking.

"Drew, I kept telling you to move here sooner."

"I really can't stand the thought of you staying back home with no family around you..."

"Aunt Vivian, I'll be there next week."

After I hung up, I bought a plane ticket to Switzerland.

The next morning, a photo landed on my phone.

A pregnancy test. Two red lines.

"Georgette's pregnant. Come to the shelter, let's talk about what to do."

We were never married, and I had never once touched Georgette. Whose child it was needed no explanation.

"In case you don't show, I already picked up Fluffball's ashes. I'll give them back after we talk."

The message was from Frank Gilbert.

My hands shook with rage, but there was nothing I could do.

I could only be there, on time, standing in front of them.

Rupert Henson looked happy.

Frank looked at him, unable to hide his own delight.

"I'm sorry, Drew. I didn't know you and Georgette were that kind of couple."

Tears welled in Rupert's eyes. He said it softly.

"I wouldn't dare hope Georgette could cut you off completely, but I really can't live without her."

"And I don't have any family left in this world. I really want to keep this child. Worst case, I'll take the child and start over somewhere else."

Frank chimed in.

"Drew, think of Georgette too. This is her flesh and blood."

"She's going to end up by your side sooner or later anyway. Would it really cost you anything to make room for Rupert for a while?"

I looked at him coldly and said nothing.

Then Rupert shot to his feet, his voice breaking.

"If you won't give in, I'll die right here in front of you."

He worked himself into a frenzy and bolted for the second-floor balcony.

That was the scene Georgette walked in on.

"No, Rupert!"

She lunged and threw her arms around him, terror all over her face.

"Drew James, how could you be this kind of man! Georgette, are you all right?"

Frank glared at me with pure hatred.

"You'd drive Rupert to his death. What about the baby in Georgette's belly?"

He lost it and grabbed whatever was near to hurl at me.

In the blur I saw what it was. A small urn.

Fluffball's ashes.

My heart jerked, and I ran toward him on instinct to stop it.

But Georgette saw me charging over and thought I meant to go after Rupert.

She threw both hands out and shoved me hard.

"Are you insane? What are you doing!"

There was a dull thud, and my body slammed into the edge of the railing. I flipped half over the top, nearly going straight off the overpass.

Pain tore through me and I curled into a knot on the ground, bleeding from a dozen places where I'd hit.

Several seconds passed before Georgette finally looked up, saw me sprawled there white-faced, and scrambled to call 911.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in the hospital.

Georgette sat at my bedside, her eyes red, as if she'd been crying.

"Drew, I'm sorry. I panicked, and that's why you got so badly hurt."

Her voice was hoarse.

"Seeing you lying in this bed, it kills me... I'm sorry. I promise you, once I have this child, I swear I'll have nothing more to do with him. All right?"

Before I could say a word.

Frank knocked at the door, frantic.

"Georgette, Rupert had a scare and he's running a fever. Go sit with him for his checkup first."

Georgette gave me a guilty look, but she turned and walked out of the room anyway.

Not long after, a doctor came in and said, a little reluctantly,

"Mr. James, this fall injured your lumbar spine and several bones. Recovery will take a long time, and one wrong move could leave you permanently disabled."

"Where's your girlfriend? I just tried to tell her about your condition, but... I couldn't find her."

I answered quietly.

"She isn't my girlfriend anymore."

The next day, Georgette, who'd been gone all night, left me a string of messages.

She said Rupert was fine, that he no longer needed her round-the-clock care, and that she could come see me soon.

Then she'd picked out a few adorable purebred cats, asking which one I liked, and a moment later asking what I thought of the meeting we'd arranged before.

But she didn't know I had already checked out of the hospital and boarded a flight to Switzerland. I was never coming back.