Page 100 of Forever Cursed

The box fan in my room is running along with my air conditioner. I became used to having Chrissy sleeping beside me. I miss her quiet snoring and the shift in the bed. I forgot how loud my thoughts were until now, and all they’re doing is reminding me how lonely I am.

When was the last time I talked to my father? Christmas, maybe? I can’t say for certain. We used to check in with one another every day, but that stopped last year. If I’m honest with myself, I think I’m avoiding him. Not because I don’t love him, that’s not it at all. It’s because there’s nothing I can do for him right now. I don’t have the means to care for him, to help save him from himself. That man needs loads of therapy, and even if you have health insurance, those bills pile up. I want to ensure he lives the rest of his life in comfort or at least be able to quit one of the many jobs he had to take on to support us. If I ignore him, his problems don’t exist, even if it’s only temporary.

I think about Dad meeting Chrissy; he’d like her, but that’s not a concern. She would charm him with her smile and win him over with her warmth.

I reach for my phone and decide to be the man Chrissy thinks I am.

Hey, Dad, just letting you know I’m still alive. Text me so I know you’re alive as well. I miss you.

I wait a moment to see if he responds. It doesn’t come as a surprise when he doesn’t. So, I drop my phone and get comfortable on my side of the bed, pretending Chrissy is lying next to me. I close my eyes and focus on the sound of the fan’s blades rotating, the hum of the AC, and the unfamiliar pitter-patter of a white cat walking down the hall. When the noisestops, I peek my left eye open and find a fluff of white fur staring me down.

“Korra.” She tilts her head to the side. “Have you made yourself at home? Because you and I both know this is going to be a foster failure. Even if I wanted to return you, I couldn’t. You won’t let me.”

Korra releases a tiny huff and struts toward me.

“I wouldn’t ever want to return you though.”

I raise my hand and offer her my finger. She bypasses it and climbs onto my chest to observe me.

“What was your life like before the café?” I ask like she’s going to respond. “Gwen said you’ve been to a few shelters. It sounds like you never found your home, your person.” Being as careful as I can, I start to scratch behind her ear. “Am I your person?”

She melts against my hand, pressing her head into my palm and plopping onto her stomach. Her purring vibrates my ribcage, and the melody fills the room, seemingly louder than the box fan.

“I hope I am,” I say as I kiss the top of her head. “Because you’re home now.”

“Rome is officially a foster failure. Cough it up,” Gwen says as she holds out her hand toward Blake.

“You two bet on me?” I ask as Blake hands Gwen a five.

“What? I didn’t expect you to adopt a cat, a fluffy white one, at that.” Blake shrugs before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“She’s more than a fluffy white cat...” I mumble under my breath.

“Oh, right, sorry. She’s your pretty princess,” Gwen teases.

The one time I called Korra my pretty princess in front of Chrissy was a big mistake, and I will never live it down. It’s not my fault the cat is cute with her bright green eyes and soft fur. Plus, she adores me, which only adds to it.

“Is Chrissy meeting you today for your one-on-one?” Blake asks as he ties his apron around his waist.

I forgot he works here with his partner, Ryan. I wonder if the guys know he hangs out with kittens on a daily basis.

“No, I’ve been reassigned to Raina Bennett.”

“Makes sense. You shouldn’t date your therapist in real life, and you definitely shouldn’t fuck them?—”

“Blake!” Ryan scolds from the back.

“What?! Tell me I’m wrong,” Blake shouts, holding back a laugh. “Anyway, I’ve heard Raina is really nice. She would have helped Malik if he gave her the chance.”

“Yeah . . .”

Chrissy is meeting with Malik for the first time today. I’m trying my best not to dwell on it. We’ve been okay with one another. The tension from the previous fight is still lingering, and it’s painfully obvious. She hasn’t been around as often as she used to, and when we are together, she looks at me like I’m an injured puppy, either waiting to be loved on or on the verge of biting her. I’m hoping to cut the tension today, and it starts with talking to my new mentor.

A few kittens run toward the door when it opens, but Raina is quick to block their attempted escape. She keeps an eye on them as she walks toward me, and they watch her eagerly, like they’re waiting for something.

“We’ll stage a coup later,” she whispers with a hint of a laugh. “Hi, Rome.”

“Hi, Raina.”

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