He Took His Childhood Friend to the World Cup, Leaving Me With Their Cat Chapter 04

He Took His Childhood Friend to the World Cup, Leaving Me With Their Cat Chapter 04

Chloe smirked, waiting to see how much longer I could hold my ground as she ripped back the neatly spread comforter.

Underneath, sitting right at the head of the bed, was a pink ruffled lace pillow.

Next to it sat a box of ultra-thin condoms.

Chloe followed my gaze, her eyes locking onto the opened box.

She stayed silent, waiting for me to blow up first.

I kept my voice dead calm. “I have things to do. Hurry up.”

“Let’s check the walk-in closet next door then,” she replied.

I followed her into the adjoining closet.

An open suitcase sat flat on the floor.

It was packed with clothes, and resting right on top was a fresh, unopened box of ultra-thin condoms.

“I’m packing,” Chloe said. “Barrett and I fly out tomorrow for the World Cup.”

Seeing my cold silence, she added with deliberate spite:

“The World Cup only happens once a year, and it’s a tough ticket. Everyone wants in, but most people can’t force their way through.”

“Some people spend their whole lives trying to squeeze into a world where they don’t belong, thinking they can change the ending. But the seats are already assigned.”

“If you’re locked out, you’re locked out for good.”

My patience snapped, my voice dropping into a harsh, icy glare. “I am only here for my pillow. You can keep Barrett. He’s yours.”

She flinched for a split second before instantly masking it with a look of pure, toxic innocence. “Sloane, what are you talking about? Don’t misunderstand me.”

“I was literally just talking about the game. Nothing else.”

I enunciated every single syllable. “I. Just. Want. My. Pillow.”

A knowing look crossed her face, and then she snapped her fingers. “Oh, I remember where it is. Follow me.”

I followed her into a third room.

The entire space had been turned into a luxury cat room.

The moment I stepped inside, I saw it—the rectangular herbal pillow with mint-green embroidery, dumped right into the middle of the litter box.

It was completely soaked in the foul, pungent stench of cat urine.

Staring at the ruined heirloom covered in cat waste, my blood boiled.

Chloe turned to me, her voice a sickening mix of fake apology and pure malice. “Oh my god, Sloane, I’m so sorry. My cat is just so playful.”

“It’s just a pillow, though. I’ll buy you a way better one.”

“Barrett is honestly way too enabling with that cat anyway.”

I swung my hand and slapped Chloe hard across the face. “You did that on purpose!”

“Sloane!”

Barrett’s roar cut through the air.

He immediately shoved me aside, shielding Chloe in his arms and staring at the swelling red mark on her cheek with sheer panic.

Chloe let the tears stream down right on cue, playing the saint. “Barrett, don’t. Don’t yell at Sloane.”

Barrett glared at me, his brow furrowed in anger. “It’s a damn pillow! Are you seriously doing all this over a pillow?”

My eyes burned with rage. I stepped up and slapped him across the face too. “Yes!”

Barrett’s head snapped back, a bright red handprint blooming on his cheek as he stared at me in absolute shock.

“Sloane, have you lost your mind?”

“I’ve lost my mind trying to cut you out of my life! Barrett, I regret every single second of the twelve years I wasted loving you!”

I spun around on my heel.

“Stop acting like a dramatic child!” he yelled at my back.

The next day, I finished my final handoff at the office and wheeled my bags straight to the airport.

My phone buzzed with a text from Chloe:

“I ordered ten replacement pillows for you online. They should arrive in a couple of days. Keep an eye out.”

“Barrett and I are boarding now. My cat is pretty high-maintenance, so I made a spreadsheet with her routine.”

“Just take care of her exactly how the sheet says.”

Then came a text from Barrett:

“I’ll be back right on time on the 9th of next month so we can hit City Hall for the marriage license.”

I stared at the screen and let out a cold laugh.

Keep your schedule, Barrett. I’m never showing up.

Go fly to your World Cup. I’m flying toward my freedom.