Chapter 1

I was Caleb Harper's cat.

But because his crush was allergic to cat fur, so he forbade me from shifting back into my kitty form.

Thing was, I hadn't groomed in ages, and the one time I tried to sneak in a quick lick, she showed up at his place out of the blue.

Caleb grabbed me by the scruff of my neck, his face cold as stone, and tossed me out like trash. "Just some stray that got in," he said. "I'll ditch it."

It was pouring outside. My freshly licked fur got soaked and caked with mud. I sat there in the rain, totally lost, no clue where to wander next..

"You're looking rough, little kitty. Wanna crash at my place?" a voice sounded.

Later, while I was munching on salmon at my new home, I heard through the grapevine that Caleb was losing his mind searching for a cat.

*****

"Cut it out with the cat form for a bit, alright? You're shedding like crazy," Caleb said.

He shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it in the trash without a second thought.

I was mid-lick, one paw awkwardly raised, and froze, totally mortified.

I glanced down at my fur—matted and knotted from weeks of neglect.

Caleb had changed.

He used to come home, scoop me up for a cuddle, brush my fur, and trim my claws when they got too long.

But lately, he'd just flop onto the couch, eyes glued to his phone, a goofy smile creeping across his face that had nothing to do with me.

The second I hopped up next to him, he'd dim his screen real quick. That warm, cologne-like scent of his would turn bitter, like he was hiding something.

"Didn't I tell you to stay human?" he said, barely looking at me. "My new business partner's got a cat hair allergy."

I raised a paw, trying to show him my claws were way overgrown.

He hadn't trimmed them in forever.

"Kitty Harper, you can turn human," he said. "You really need me to play nail salon for you? C'mon, don't be that lazy. Time to blend in with the human crowd."

His phone buzzed. He glanced at the caller ID, got up, and stepped away to take the call.

I stared at his back, my tail drooping, feeling like absolute garbage.

Three years ago, he found me all banged up and took me in. He took care of me like I was his everything.

He'd carry me around in a cat backpack.

He'd gently stroke my head and say, "Whatever other cats have, you've got it too. And what they don't? You've got that as well."

I was so touched that I became the best-behaved kitty ever.

Everyone was jealous of him for having such a perfect cat.

*****

Then one night, he got plastered and got into a minor car wreck.

He came home a bloody, stumbling mess. I couldn't bear seeing him like that, so I shifted into human form for the first time.

I wiped his face, helped him to bed, patched him up with iodine, and even whipped up some plain porridge.

When he sobered up and saw me, he was floored.

I just grinned, holding the bowl of porridge, and said, "Your little snail-kitty worked her tail off to make this for you, y'know."

So why'd he turn so cold?

The litter box was gone. The cat tree was taken apart. Even the scratching post had vanished.

What was next—getting rid of me?

"Kitty Harper, my partner's in a bit of trouble," he said. "I gotta go pick her up. You… just, I dunno, find somewhere else to crash tonight, okay?"

I just stared at him, silent and hurt.

But Caleb was done babying me. "Kitty, be good, alright? I've got a ton of your fur to clean up."

I hopped off the couch and headed for the door, not looking back.

I watched as he called a cleaning crew, practically turning the place upside down to make it spotless.

Soon after, he walked in with a woman, his arm snugly wrapped around her waist—close and intimate.

I'd seen her photo before.

Lila Stone—Caleb's crush, the unforgettable girl who always held his heart.

Her cheeks were flushed, eyes hazy, one arm draped around his neck, wriggling in his arms like she couldn't get close enough.

But then she started sneezing like crazy.