A cat. He was jealous of your cat. Satoru hadn’t thought much of it when you found the poor stray in a battered cardboard box on the side of the road a few weeks ago — after seeing you beg him to keep it, what kind of husband would he be if he said no? But now the damn thing had been hogging all your time recently, and for what? He was supposed to come first. In sickness and in health, until death do you part!

“This is where three years of marriage gets you, huh,” he scoffed under his breath like a bitter child, not even trying to be mature about the situation, “second to a cat.”

He watched you cradle the thing in your arms, talk to it like it was a newborn baby, give it kisses. The two of you were originally supposed to be watching a movie right about now, which had been scheduled long before you found the thing, but the stupid cat had wedged itself between you two and refused to get off the couch. It knew what it was doing, too. He swore the thing would give him a grin when it succeeded in getting your attention.

“Babe. Come on, it’s movie night, remember?” he almost whined. "Y/N, put the cat dooowwnnn."