Christine sits in front of her mirror, painting her lips with her favourite lipstickCherry Delight. Tom once mentioned it really suited her.
At her age, she doesnt expect miracles. And yet, one day, she meets someone. At a bus stop, of all places. He offers her his seat, she thanks him, and suddenly theyre chatting away.
That was three months ago. Feels like a lifetime already.
Oliver, what do you reckon? She turns to her cat, perched regally on the windowsill, watching the sparrows outside. Do I look nice?
He answers with a decisive meow, authoritative and approving.
Oliver has been with her for five years now, ever since her husband passed away. She brought the tiny kitten home that very day, saying, Well mourn together. But instead, they learnt how to live together.
Hes a clever cat, that one. Kind and perceptivealways there with a purr when shes low, dashing around the flat with joy when shes happy. Every morning, without fail, he wakes her gently with a tap of his paw on her cheek.
Her phone rings.
Chrissie, Im on my way! Toms voice is bright, full of anticipation. Today we settle everything.
All right, she laughs. Im waiting.
Hes supposed to bring her keys to his flat today. Theyve decided: theyll live together. Hes got a light and spacious two-bed overlooking the sea. Fresher air, plenty of space.
Christine daydreamsbreakfasts on the balcony, views of the bay, Tom reading his newspaper.
Oliver, she muses, soon were moving house! Lovely big windows, plenty of birds to spot. Youll love it.
He stretches, hops down from the sill, and winds round her legs.
Yes, you too. Id never leave you behind.
The doorbell rings.
Tom stands before her with a cheerful bouquet and a broad grin. Hes dapper as alwayswell-fitted suit, ever the successful businessman.
My beauty! he beams, kissing her cheek. Ready for our new life?
As ready as Ill ever be, Christine glows. Come in. Let me put the kettle on.
They sit together in the kitchen. Tom pulls out a bunch of keys, setting them ceremoniously on the table.
There they are. The keys to our future.
Oliver makes his entrance, pausing at the doorway, sniffing the visitor curiously.
Ah, that cat again, Tom wrinkles his nose. Christine, I need a word.
Whats wrong? She senses a chill in his tone.
Its justthe flats all newly refurbished, you know? Fresh carpets. Cats shed everywhere, and the smell And honestly, Ive got allergies.
Christine freezes, teacup in mid-air.
Sorry?
Im not willing to live with a cat. Tom speaks as if discussing an old armchair. Youll have to decide what youll do with him.
The words hit like a cold shower.
Oliver is at her feet, looking up with those yellow eyes. At her. At Tom. With a strangely knowing gaze.
Tom soon leaves, keys left on the table. Christine sits staring at them, her tea untouched.
Oliver leaps into her lap, purring softly, soothingly.
What am I going to do, Olly? she whispers, stroking his fur. What should I do?
Toms words echo in her mind: Its your choice.
How do you choose? For five years, Oliver has been family, comfort, even a reason to keep going. After her husband Edward died, that scrappy kitten practically saved her.
She remembers bottle-feeding him when he was tiny, nursing him to health, the first moment he purred in her hands.
All those mornings together. Evenings by the telly. Phone in her hand, she almost calls her friend, Nina, but stops herself. What will Nina say? Probably, Christine, surely you can find the cat a homefor a man?
But can she?
She stands at the window. The street lies under the seasons first dusting of snow. December. Soon itll be Christmas. Shed hoped not to be alone this year.
All right, she decides aloud. Ill ask the vet. See if anyone wants him. Hell go to a good home.
Even as she says it, her heart fights back.
Next day she visits her neighbour, Mrs. Gale, who always leaves tidbits for the strays.
Mrs. Gale, do you know anyone whod take in a lovely cat? A clever, gentle one?
You mean Oliver? Whats happened?
Im moving, andwell, no pets allowed.
Mrs. Gale studies her. Chrissie, that cat is family. I remember you carrying him home, a scrap of fur.
Circumstances Christine sighs.
Whats more important than a loyal friend? Mrs. Gale shakes her head. No, love. I dont know anyone. And I dont want to. Its betrayal, Christine.
That stings. Christine escapes home.
Oliver greets her at the door, just like always. Rubs against her legs, purring. She realiseshe knows. Animals always know.
Im so sorry, she breathes, hugging him close. Forgive me.
That evening, Tom calls.
So? Found a home for the cat?
Not yet. Still asking about.
Christine, lets not get sentimental. Do you want a future with me or not? I need a proper woman, not someone who gives up happiness for a cat.
I just need more time.
We havent got time. I want you moved in by Christmas.
Afterwards, Christine sits in the darkness. Oliver lies nearby, gazing at her.
Hes right, she confides to the cat. Youre just an animal. Toms a man. Where else would I find someone like him?
But the words feel false, even to herself.
On the third day, Nina rings.
Chrissie, you sound miserable. Whats going on?
Christine tells allthe ultimatum, the search for a new home, her own confusion.
Wait, interrupts Nina. He actually said, Pick me or the cat?
Well, yes, more or less.
And you know what comes next, dont you?
What?
Next its, Dont wear those jeans. Or, Stop seeing your friends, I dont like them. Chrissie, love, if he starts laying down rules now
But what if I end up alone? Christine almost shouts. Completely alone!
Are you alone now? Doesnt Oliver count?
Christine goes silent.
After the call, she sits down. Oliver immediately curls up beside her.
Tell me straight, she says to him. If I give you away, will you miss me?
He purrs something soft in reply.
And me? Will I ever be happy, knowing I betrayed you?
Oliver raises his face, meeting her eyes with absolute trust and affection.
Oh God, she whispers. What am I doing?
Tom calls that night.
Christine, Im coming for you tomorrow. Saturday. Hope the cat situation is sorted?
She looks at Oliver, curled up, purring, peaceful.
Tom. I need more time to think.
About what?! Youre letting a cat ruin your life? Are you mad?
Maybe you could get used to him? Olivers really lovely and tidy.
I told youIm allergic! Christine, youre not ready for a real relationship. I want your answer tomorrow. Thats final.
Beeps.
Christine puts the phone down. The flat is quiet, just Olivers purrs filling the silence.
So thats it, she murmurs. Final warning. Charming.
And, suddenly, she realises what truly scares her. Not lonelinessbut how close shed come to giving up her truest friend for someone who waves ultimatums.
Saturday dawns grey and drizzly. Christine wakes early after a restless nighta dream about a long corridor, Tom and Oliver waiting at the end, forcing her to choose. She wakes heavy-hearted.
Oliver lies at her feet. When she stirs, he stretches, yawns, and jumps onto her pillow.
Morning, my love, she whispers, nestling into his soft fur.
She gets up, makes tea, puts out Olivers food and fresh wateras always. Though her hands shake.
What am I going to do? she asks him as he eats. Well? Any ideas?
He gazes back at her, those yellow eyes full of uncanny understanding.
Maybe hes right, she muses. Maybe Im clinging to the past. Maybe Im just not ready for something serious?
But even as the words leave her lips, she knows theyre not her own.
At eleven, Nina calls.
How are you, Chrissie? Made up your mind?
I dont know, Nina. My head says one thing; my heart, another.
So whats your heart say?
Christine glances at Oliver on the windowsill, grooming himself as the world spins by.
My heart saysI cant let him go.
Theres your answer! Nina cheers. Christine, listen to yourselfanyone who makes you choose between them and a loyal friend, what does that say?
After the call, Christine sits in her armchair, Oliver curling onto her lap.
You know, Ninas right, she tells him. Im not alone. Ive got you. And thats thats enough. It really is.
He purrs happily, nestling closer.
What if Toms just not the one for me? Maybe someone one day will love meand you too?
At two oclock, the doorbell rings. Christine jumps, heart hammering.
Tom stands at the door, smart as ever, bag in hand, face all business.
Are you ready? he asks, without so much as a greeting. Got your things?
Come in, Tom. We need to talk.
About what? He steps inside, scanning the hall. Wheres the cat? I hope youve sorted it.
At that moment, Oliver walks in from the kitchen. Pauses. Sits. Stares.
Oh, for heavens sake, Tom sighs. Christine, I asked you
Ive made my decision, she says quietly.
And?
And I cant leave him.
Tom freezes, turning to her.
Cant?
Hes my friend. Weve been together five years.
And what about me? Toms voice is colder still. Dont I matter?
Christine looks at him, and suddenly sees not the man shed fallen for, but someone expecting everything on his terms. Someone who doesnt care for her affectionsonly his own comfort.
You do, she says gently. But Oliver would never make me choose.
What? Youre putting that cat above me?
Im notjust telling you. He loves me without conditions.
Christine! Tom steps towards her. Youre throwing away our future for a pet?
Im not throwing away anything. Im standing up for what matters.
Oliver comes over and rubs against her legs. She picks him up, holding him close.
Look, says Tom, his voice brittle. Think about this once more. Im successful. I can give you a good life. And youre choosing a cat?
Hes not just a cat, Christine interrupts. Hes Oliver. My Oliver.
Whats so special about him? Tom explodes. Honestly? Hes an animal!
And in that moment, Christine knows, utterly and finally.
Youre right, Tom, she replies, calm as anything. Hes not special. Except he never asked me to choose between him and anyone else.
Tom stands there, stunned.
So this is it? he breathes. The cat wins?
He glares for another moment, then spins on his heel.
Youre a fool, Christine. Youre missing your chance. Youll never find another man like me.
Maybe, she nods. But therell never be another Oliver either.
Tom slams the door.
Christine is alone. Silence descends.
She moves to the kitchen, sits at the table. Oliver jumps into her lap.
Well then, she says to him. Just you and me again.
He looks up, meets her eye, rubs his face against her hand.
Then, for the first time in days, Christine feels a wash of relief. Genuine, lifting relief. Like a weight she didnt know she was carryinggone.
You know what, Olly? she smiles. I think we did the right thing.
Lightness settles in her chest. For the first time in ages.
March. Sunlight drips from the sky, water pools under the hedges, sparrows shout joyfully in the garden. Christine tends her violets on the windowsilltheyve become a little jungle over winter.
Look, Oliver! Isnt it gorgeous? she says, showing him the newest bloom.
He sniffs the pot with dignity, meows in approval.
Three months have passed since that day. It was difficult at firstnot loneliness, but self-doubt. Had she thrown away her last chance? Had she made a mistake?
But slowly, the house breathes again.
Christines started teaching piano once moretwo new students, little Maisie and teenage Adam. Laughter and music fill the flat; life has returned.
Mrs. Carter, whats your cats name? Maisie asks, eyes wide at Oliver.
Thats Oliver. Hes my friend.
Can I stroke him?
Of course.
Oliver graciously accepts the attention, even purring warmly for the little girl.
And then, something unexpected happens. Christine bumps into Michael, her widower neighbour from upstairs, in the courtyard. They chat.
Lovely cat you have, he observes, spotting Oliver in the window.
Thank you. Do you like animals?
I adore them. I had a sheepdog, Daisy, before she died of old age two years ago. Thought about getting another its lonely on your own sometimes.
They end up talking for an hour. Michael is thoughtful, well-read, andabove allkind.
Will your cat mind a visitor? he inquires, a twinkle in his eye.
Oliver? Hes a good judge of character. Doesnt care for bad sorts.
Michael laughs, Hope I pass the test.
He does, right from the start.
Now, as Christine looks at Oliver basking in a sunbeam, she smiles. Life has worked itself out, maybe not as shed once planned, but all the better for it.
Christine puts the kettle on, settles in the armchair. Oliver jumps into her lap at once.
Thank you, she whispers, stroking his fur. For teaching me that real love never asks for betrayal.
Oliver purrs in responsewarm, content, entirely at home.
And Christine realises shes not afraid of being alone anymore. Not really.
Because as long as theres someone who loves you, simply for being you, you are never truly alone.
