Two days after I broke up with my boyfriend, I came home from work and discovered that almost everything he had left at my apartment was gone. His clothes, gaming console, expensive headphones, even the ridiculous coffee machine he once insisted was “ours.” He had waited until I was at work, packed everything into boxes, and disappeared without leaving a note. There was only one thing he had left behind: Kimchi, the huge white-and-orange cat he had adopted years ago with his ex-girlfriend. I stared at the cat sitting in the middle of my empty living room and pointed at him.
“Your dad doesn’t want you anymore. From now on, I’m your stepmom.”
Kimchi blinked.
“If you misbehave, I’m sending you overseas. Somewhere so far away that even if you paddle a boat for a hundred years, you’ll never find your way back.”
The cat stared at me like I was insane. I didn’t know it then, but that was the last ordinary conversation I would ever have with him. That night, around two in the morning, I woke up because something wet was licking my hair. I froze. Then I heard a tiny voice inside my head.
“Stepmom… please don’t send me away. I get seasick.”
My eyes flew open. Kimchi was sitting on my pillow. I immediately switched on the lamp and stared at him.
“Did you just talk?”
Silence.
I stared at him for several seconds before laughing nervously.
“Okay. I’m officially losing it.”
I turned off the light and pulled the blanket over myself. A few minutes later, something wet touched my hair again.
“Stepmom… why doesn’t Dad want me anymore?”
I sat straight up.
“Kimchi?”
The cat stopped licking. We stared at each other in the darkness. Nearly a minute passed before he started licking my hair again.
“Kimchi!”
“I’m grooming Mom.”
“STOP LICKING MY HEAD!”
“Mom’s hair smells like shampoo.”
That was it. I knew I wasn’t imagining things. Somehow, after the breakup, I could hear my cat’s thoughts. And Kimchi had a lot to say. The next morning, I tested it.
“Kimchi, are you hungry?”
“Very hungry.”
I nearly screamed.
“You really can hear me?”
“Mom is weird.”
“I am not weird!”
“Mom is talking to a cat.”
I stared at him. He stared back. Then I burst out laughing. For the first time since my boyfriend left, I actually felt happy. Kimchi had been with me since he was about three months old. My ex had always claimed he was the one who rescued him, but I was the one who fed him, took him to the vet, trained him, cleaned his litter box, and spent countless nights sleeping beside him when he was sick. Now, for some strange reason, I could finally hear what he had been thinking all along. That morning, I hugged him tightly.