For three evenings, Sanja called for her cat outside the building, holding an open tin she could no longer bear looking at. Boro walked beside her, shining his phone beneath cars. He said the cat had escaped while he took out the rubbish. Sanja didn't blame him for the open door. She blamed herself for not noticing how unsettled the animal had become since Boro moved in with large boxes and new habits.
On the fourth day, his cousin called to ask what food the cat could eat. Sanja held the phone to her ear for a long time before managing to ask where she was. The cat was safely in his apartment, brought with a story that Sanja temporarily couldn't care for her. The cousin didn't know she was reported missing. He offered to let her collect the cat immediately, confused about hearing tears instead of an answer about food.
Boro admitted being bothered by hair on his suits and scratching at the door at night. He thought she would find it easier to accept a loss than agree to rehome the cat. Sanja looked at him, for the first time without wanting to translate his words into something less ugly. For three evenings, he had pretended to search for an animal whose address he knew. It wasn't a difference in cleanliness standards. He had made her fear part of his plan.
She collected the cat alone. The animal initially remained beneath the sofa, then emerged at the familiar rattle of a bowl. Sanja thanked the cousin for caring for her and said receiving a false story wasn't his fault. She brought home the carrier and food he had bought. Boro tried helping open the door. She asked him to step aside and return to his previous apartment while she decided whether to continue the relationship.
Friends were divided. Some said she was too harsh over a cat. Sanja stopped explaining once she realized they kept discussing the wrong issue. She wrote to Boro that the question was whether he would solve the next problem by making her live in an invented reality too. He replied that he had only wanted peace at home. That answer helped her end the relationship.
After he left, the apartment didn't immediately become pleasant. She missed his laughter and ordinary conversations, which didn't mean she was wrong. The cat still scratched at the door at night. Sanja sought practical advice and changed the bedtime play routine. Not every problem vanished, but none required searching in the dark for something deliberately removed from her life anymore.