I recognized him as soon as he walked through the door. While he made himself at home on my new couch, I froze. His hands felt around for the missing cat fur, for the stains he used to never care about sitting on. I couldn’t do this right now.

“Where is the box of my things you were supposed to return weeks ago?”

My weekend chores exhausted me. I was a useless, dead battery. A confrontation, or even a heart to heart talk, wasn’t something my body could handle.

“It’s in my car, Cleo.”

I rolled my eyes, gestured to the door. “Go get it then. Stop wasting my time.” The words don’t spit out the angry venom I wanted to give him, but they conveyed my disappointment enough.

“Let me talk to you first.” His eyes pleaded to me as if he were groveling for his life.

“No, Ryan.” My cat, Mercutio, hissed at him. His soft head gently rubbed against my calf.

“Give me a chance.”

“You ghosted me for five months! You treated me like I didn’t exist to you! You wouldn’t even look at me!” Now my rage came to light.

He shot up from the couch, holding his hands out to me as if taming a rabid, angry animal. “There is a reason for that.”

“How am I supposed to believe you? Leading up to you ditching me, you would cancel plans left and right! You were trying to slowly pullout of the relationship so you wouldn’t feel an ounce of remorse after breaking my heart you stupid, worthless—“

He slammed a piece of paper in front of me. It was a photocopy of a drivers license. Ryan’s unsmiling photo stands out, his eyes in a resting position. I look over at his full name: Jacob Lee Stewart. The details show his date of birth as April 22nd, 1999 when it should be today’s date: December 3rd. His eye color is described as brown. I looked up at his blue ones.

“What the hell is this?”

He takes out two thin contact lenses and slips them into his eyes, transforming him into the man on the license. Snatching the paper from view, he quickly put his shoes on.

“Ryan, wait!”

He shot me a glare. “Do not call me that.”

“Then explain what the fuck is happening!” Mercutio let out a loud, desperate meow. His tail swung against his metal food bowl.

“I’m sorry, but that is all I can show you for your safety and mine.”

The front door swung open, then slammed in my face. The rusted hinges screamed, echoing my internalized frustration.

I rushed to the pantry to grab Mercutio’s treat bag. He eagerly pawed at my foot until I poured out five treats. Gentle, thankful purrs rumbled in his chest.

During the day’s remaining hours, I resumed my chores. Mercutio wandered as he pleased, living his flawless life. While I slowly folded towels, I caught him burying his claws between the cushions of my new couch.

“Mercutio, no! Get down!”

I swatted at him with my hand when I saw what he’d caught.

It was a dark blue scrunchie.

One I had left at Ryan’s (Jacob’s) house.