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.