EPILOGUE
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
ASHER
“Come on kitten, we’re going to be late!” Master called out from the hallway.
I was nervous. Of course, we were going to be late. I brushed my teeth and finished dressing in a T-shirt.
Standing, tapping a foot on the floor, he gestured with a hand for me to come closer.
“I know we’re late,” I sighed, slipping my feet into my shoes by the door.
He pressed his thumb to the side of my mouth. “You had a little toothpaste.” He gave me a kiss. “Ok, so the plan is to go pick the cat up from the shelter, then get back here, show her around, see if she likes the toys. Not your toys, of course.”
Tutting, I rolled my eyes at him. “She can play with my toys too if she wants.”
“Fine, but she has claws,” he said, taking my hand. “You don’t. So, she might scratch.”
“I know, I know. I’m the one who wanted her,” I said. “But you said after I graduated that you were impressed with my results. You said I could have anything. And I told you I was smart.”
“You know I have work in the morning too, so if she cries in the middle of the night, what do you have to do?”
I recited the long list I would have to do for the cat if she cried, especially on nights when he was at work the following morning. I only worked Thursday evening through to Sunday. I’d worked my way up to a supervisor, which meant I was in charge of a bunch of kittens. I was still a kitten myself, but now I was a respected one.
We’d been to the animal shelter a few times before. We’d talked about getting a kitten or a cat, and of course, it wasn’t something either of us was looking at doing lightly. If we got something, we needed to take proper care of it. He’d sat me down once and told me that it would be like having a child, which I chuckled at and told him that was silly. Children was much more needier. I certainly wasn’t having one of those anytime soon, no matter how many times we tried in bed.
I had pre-picked out the cat I wanted. Ginny, a ginger and white tabby cat. She was on the older side, but so was Master, so I figured they’d both get along quite well. He hadn’t met her before, but I’d been down to the shelter a few times so she could get used to me, and each time, I went in with a couple treats for her, and the rest of the cats and kittens, I wasn’t a monster. They all loved me.
“Is she the one?” he asked as we stood in the animal shelter, looking at the giant wall of metal bars where the animals lived, seemingly in a prison.
“I want them all,” I whispered, tugging on his arm.
“I’d love to say yes, but I’m not a millionaire, and we don’t live in a palace,” he said. “Pick the one you want.”
The staff knew me, and one of the boys who worked there was also one of the kittens at the Manor.
This cat was a perfect bonding glue to cement our relationship.
Ginny purred as soon as she came out of her cage, almost leaping toward me. She was put into another crate for us to take her home with. We didn’t need much else, we’d been preparing for this, or at least I’d been preparing for this. I was so excited to have someone else around, someone to keep us both occupied while the other was at work.
I let her sit on my lap inside her crate all the way home. She didn’t hiss or seem agitated or angry.
“Are you going to change her name?” he asked.
“No, she’s ginger. She suits Ginny.” She purred at me through the crate. “And she loves me, so that’s a win. Did you buy food for her?”
“Of course,” he said. “Food, toys, everything she needs.” He patted at my knee, gently squeezing it with reassurance.
I was quietly plotting to have a second cat already, and perhaps even a third and fourth cat. I knew Ginny couldn’t get pregnant, so it wasn’t like we could be expecting any kittens anytime soon.
“You have to promise me one thing,” he said, as he parked the car.
“I promise.”
“You didn’t even hear what I had to say.”
“What?”
He stroked a finger beneath my chin, tickling at it. “You have to promise you’ll love me more than the cat.”
Gasping in fake shock, I shook my head. “I’m not sure I can do that.”
“She’s adorable, but—”
“Wait, no, you have to love me more than the cat. I’m only a kitten.”
He leaned over and gave me a kiss on the end of my nose. “Ok, kitten. Now, we should probably get her inside, I don’t like the smell coming from that crate.”
He was right about that. Maybe she had been nervous. But I didn’t care that was nervous. She was home now with her new family. And I was still kitten.