Curling beside Lisa while she read, nudging her chin during work calls, or chasing sunbeams across the hardwood. Lisa hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been until Nina filled the space. The kitten didn’t care about her past. About the divorce, or the long days when Lisa couldn’t summon the will to do more than sit with her coffee and stare out the window.
Nina only wanted a warm lap and the occasional chirp of attention. It was enough. Sometimes, Lisa caught herself narrating the day aloud: “What do you think of these leftovers, huh?” or “I should really clean the laundry room, but you look too comfortable.” She didn’t even feel silly doing it. Talking to Nina made her feel anchored, like she wasn’t drifting anymore.