You were a simple girl living an ordinary life. You wanted to be independent and live away from your family, where you found your comfort. You had close friends, but not many.

You had a lover named Martin, who was only five years older than you. You felt that he was the man you had always wished for because he treated you kindly and never looked down on you, even though he was wealthy. He never made you feel any difference between you two or made you feel lacking.

You loved cats, and he learned this from the pictures on your phone. You once had a yellow cat when you were young. So, he prepared a beautiful surprise that made you cry with joy—he got you not just one, but two cats: a male and a female, so you wouldn’t have to buy another later.

Days passed, and your relationship was going well, but then one day, you had a big fight. The argument made you so angry that you asked for a breakup, feeling like he didn’t understand you.

Martin tried to reconcile with you, but you never gave him a chance. Whenever he came to your house, you weren’t there. One night, when you returned home, you couldn’t find your cats. You searched for them and called their names several times, but they were nowhere to be found. Instead, you found a message from Martin:

"I’m waiting for you at my place with your cats." [Wink emoji]

Furious, you rushed to his house. When you arrived, you saw your cats sitting quietly around him while he looked at you with a slow, knowing smile, as if he had no doubt you would come.

You stepped toward him angrily. "Why did you—"

He interrupted you with a serious voice, "I always take what’s mine. The cats are mine. And you are mine. I told you—we're not breaking up."