Gemotions

The silence in the apartment felt heavier than usual. It was a tangible thing, pressing down on Leo’s chest as he stared at the empty space where the cat tree had once stood. He picked at a loose thread on the sofa, a nervous habit he'd developed since the argument. The soft purr, the playful swatting at his shoelaces – all of it was gone. He missed the quiet companionship, the way Cleo, the calico, would curl up on his lap while he worked.

He’d been so adamant. So sure. He’d scoffed at Sarah's pleas, citing allergies and the extra work. Now, Sarah was gone for the weekend, visiting her sister, and the apartment was a tomb. A hollow shell of what it once was. He wished he could rewind the conversation, take back the dismissive tone, the stubborn refusal.

The air felt stale, the sunlight cold against his skin. He found himself wandering over to the pet store online, staring at the pictures of fluffy kittens. The hollow ache in his chest grew with each passing minute.