When I got back from a short getaway, I was met with a nightmare—my mother-in-law had taken it upon herself to “liberate” me from my beloved cat, Benji. But thanks to my neighbor’s quick intervention and a few well-kept secrets from the past, I not only got Benji back but also found the courage to rid myself of a useless husband.
Benji wasn’t just an animal to me—he was my solace, my companion, my family. I found him as a tiny kitten when I was drowning in sorrow after my father passed away. My husband never understood, always dismissing my attachment as “strange.” But I never thought he and his mother would go this far.
I arrived home after my short trip with my friends, but something was off. The house was too still. No little paws rushing to greet me, no soft purring. A sinking feeling settled in my chest as I scanned the room.
“Where’s Benji?”
“Who knows? Maybe he wandered off,” my husband said nonchalantly.
I turned my gaze to my mother-in-law, who sat at the table with a smug expression. “Where is my cat?”
She rolled her eyes. “I did you a favor and set you free. You’re unnaturally attached to that stray, as if it were your child. It’s ridiculous. Now maybe you can focus on what truly matters—starting a real family and giving us grandchildren.”
I spun toward my husband, my voice sharp with disbelief. “You just let this happen?!”
He sighed and shrugged. “It was time for you to let go.”
I was about to explode when my neighbor Lisa knocked on my door, holding out her phone. “You might want to see this,” she said.
On the screen was my cat, Benji, cradled in the arms of Samantha—the girl who made my high school years miserable. The caption? “Meet the newest addition to the family! #blessed #newcatmom”
Lisa swiped to a video. “I saw your MIL take Benji’s carrier to her car yesterday, so I followed her.” The footage showed my mother-in-law, Carol, happily handing Benji over to Samantha before driving off.
Furious, I confronted Carol. “I have proof you stole my cat. And you gave him to my high school bully?”
“This is ridiculous!” she scoffed. My husband hesitated, but I was already grabbing my keys.
“I’m going to get my cat. When I get back, I want you both gone.”
***
Samantha’s townhouse was nestled in a high-end neighborhood on the other side of town. Within two minutes of my arrival, the door swung open.
“Where’s my cat?” I demanded.
“You mean my cat now?” Samantha lifted an eyebrow. “He was given to me as a present. Completely legit.”
“A present from someone who had no right to hand him over. That’s called stealing.”
She let out a laugh. “Oh, come on. It’s just a cat. Do you have any idea how many followers I have?”
I pulled out my phone. “I have proofs of everything you did to me back in high school. I could put together a very detailed video and share it on every platform.”
Her confidence shattered in an instant. “Don’t,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Please… just take the cat.”
Without another word, she disappeared inside and reappeared moments later, holding Benji in her arms.
John and Carol were still standing there when I stepped inside, cradling my cat tightly in my arms.
I fixed my gaze on them. “Both of you—I told you to get out of my house. I’m done. I want a divorce.”
Carol let out a sharp gasp. “How dare you—”
“I have video proof of you taking my cat,” I cut in, locking eyes with her. “Either you leave now, or I call the cops.”
John quickly raised a hand, his tone urgent. “Enough! We’re going.”
He grabbed his mother’s arm and guided her out as she continued to mutter complaints the entire way.
Soon, the cloying scent of Carol’s perfume would vanish for good, just like every reminder of John’s failure as a husband.
All that would remain was Benji’s comforting scent—and the promise of a brighter future ahead.