Page 165 of Sinclair Duet

“I do.”

The spring temperatures were in a consistent warming pattern. As we walked up and down the neighborhood sidewalks, we met people walking their dogs and parents with children in yards. Each person we saw, we stopped and asked if they’d seen a black cat with a sparkling pink collar.

The answer was always the same.

No one had seen her.

When we returned to my place, I was overwhelmed with the emptiness that went along with Duchess’s absence. “I don’t want to go to your place. I want to be here in case she comes home.”

Damien nodded.

“Will you stay here?”

“Of course,” he said. “I need to pick up the dry cleaning that was dropped off at my place today. I’ll get us dinner on my way back. Keep the doors locked and only open them to a beautiful green-eyed black kitty.”

More tears came as I tried to breathe. “What if she’s gone?”

“I refuse to believe that.”

“I wish I were as stubborn as you.”

Damien cupped my cheek. “I refused to believe you were gone, and now you’re back. Duchess will come back too.”

“I don’t know. She listened to all those bad things about you.”

“And she welcomed me back with purrs and head rubs.”

After Damien left, I double-checked both doors. For a few minutes, I stood in my living room and cried. I’d like to say I was productive in some manner, but I wasn’t.

What kind of a monster harms a cat?

What did Amber hope to learn from spying?

They were the questions on repeat in my head. Beyond the glass door, night was beginning to fall in my backyard. Opening the sliding door, I sat on the step to the deck, looking out over the grass as lightning bugs began to blink in the dimming light.

“Duchess, come home.”

I remembered the neighborhood app and decided to check to see if we’d gotten any responses. My eyes blurred as I read the messages. No one had seen her, but they all wished me luck and offered their sympathies.

“She’s not gone,” I mumbled, hoping I was speaking life to the dream.

It was as I was pouring a glass of wine with the back door still open that my phone rang. It was a video call. It was Damien.

“Hi,” I said.

His image was pixelated, but I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Duchess,” I screamed. “Where did you find her?”

“Asleep on my bed.”

“What the hell?” I smiled as she stretched her neck and rubbed her head across Damien’s cheek. “She’s not hurt?”

“She seems no worse for wear from her journey. Remember the security company?”

I nodded.

“They couldn’t get in my place. The deadbolt was locked.”