He had come home from work earlier than usual… and caught her with the neighbor.
He stopped in the doorway of the bedroom and for a couple of minutes just watched them lying in his bed. Then he cleared his throat and, with a voice hoarse from tension, said:
— I’m not blaming anyone. And I’m not going to listen to explanations. I’ll go stay at a friend’s tonight. You’d better be gone by tomorrow evening.
Luckily, they hadn’t gotten married yet, and the apartment was his — inherited from his parents.
The next day, she called him nonstop at work. She tried everything: from tears, apologies, and declarations of love with promises that it would never happen again — to reproaches, accusations, and yelling that he’d never find anyone better.
He remained remarkably calm. No shouting, no fights. He agreed with everything, but always ended with:
— You don’t have much time left. If you’re still in the apartment when I get back, I’ll throw you out myself. Got it?
That evening, he came back to an already empty apartment.
The second key lay on the table. Deep inside, he felt a drill of pain — hurt, confusion, and the harsh sting of betrayal.
He briefly considered getting drunk, but instead called an old friend — the one who had long since retired due to a disability, bought a little house by the river, and lived peacefully in the countryside.
The next morning, he took time off until the end of the week, got in the car, and took off — to where fishing rods, homemade moonshine, and man talk awaited him…
He returned on Sunday. Parked the car, stepped out, and was just about to head home when the shout of his cranky fifth-floor neighbor — the one with the French bulldog — rang out:
— That’s no way to treat animals! No wonder she left you!
He was so startled he dropped his backpack and the bag of fish. Something snapped inside his head — either from anger or leftover village moonshine.
He turned around, glaring at her:
— And what damn business is it of yours who left whom?! Mind your own damn business…
She clearly hadn’t expected that. Her eyes widened, she yanked the leash, and dragged her shrieking bulldog away.
He picked up the backpack and bag and had almost reached the entrance… when he suddenly froze.
Right at the doorway, sitting on a bench, were Bulka and Baron — the dog and the cat. Her pets. Looking up at him with loyal eyes, their tails wagging.
— You? — he stopped in disbelief. — How?.. From where?..
First thought — she had come back. Then — maybe she made a duplicate key? And now she was inside?
He raced up the stairs, opened the door… empty. Absolute silence.
Well, almost silence — from below came a meow and a rub against the door.
He squatted down, stroked the furry guests, and sighed:
— How did you two end up here? You ran away? And what am I supposed to do with you now?.. You’re hers…
But neither the cat nor the dog seemed the least bit concerned. They were eagerly sniffing the fish bag.
— Got it, you’re hungry, — he said and headed to the kitchen.
An hour later, the three of them were enjoying fried fish. Bulka purred with joy, rubbing against his old sweatpants. Baron sat on the table like a king — he even had to place a bowl next to his own plate.
After eating, the cat lay down beside him and placed a paw on his hand. The man stroked him and continued his meal with one hand.
That night, they slept together: the cat on the left, the dog on the right.
In the morning, he called his ex. She perked up immediately, said she had forgiven him and was ready to come back.
— I couldn’t care less about your forgiveness, — he interrupted. — Just letting you know: your animals left you and came to me.
— You stole them! — she screamed. — You stole my pets!
He calmly replied that he had been out of town for days — and could easily prove it.
She hung up. And he was left with doubts…
He didn’t want to give them back. He felt peace, warmth, and joy in their company. They chased away his sadness and didn’t let him wallow in self-pity.
A week later, the ex showed up… with a new boyfriend. And demanded the pets back.
He sighed deeply, opened the door:
— Come in.
— Where are they?! — she shrieked. — Hand them over now!
— Then find them and take them, — he said with a smirk.
Luckily, he had surveillance cameras at home. As soon as Baron saw his former owner, he hissed and darted under the sofa. The woman crawled in after him. Bulka raced in circles around the living room, chased by the boyfriend — red-faced and panting.
— Are you just going to sit there?! — the ex screamed. — Not going to help us?! No wonder I left you!!!
— You left me?! — he laughed. — Didn’t tell your new guy you jumped into bed with the neighbor?
— Shut up!!! — she yelled.
And then Bulka caught up to her boyfriend… and bit him in the leg. He screamed in pain.
Furious, the woman grabbed Baron by the tail — and got scratched. Badly.
They had to call an ambulance. Then the police showed up — summoned by that same neighbor with the bulldog, who from the street gave the officers a detailed report claiming he was a dangerous repeat offender who stole animals and beat women.
The police came upstairs, he opened the door:
— We were told there was violence here. Can you explain?
— That would take a while. Better if I show you.
He played the security footage. They watched in silence. Then asked for a copy by email and left.
The neighbor was waiting outside. She ranted, demanded they arrest the “animal abuser.”
He watched from the window, gave her a mocking bow. She screamed, stepped forward… and stepped on her bulldog. He yelped, bit her, and ran off.
He closed the window. They went to dinner.
Baron purred. Bulka jumped up, nuzzling his hand.
Since then, the ex never called again. The neighbor with the bulldog avoided him.
Baron and Bulka went for walks together. One day, a different neighbor sat down beside him:
— It’s not good to be alone…
— I’m not alone, — he said, pointing to his furry companions.
— I know a good woman…
— I already had a “good woman.”
— Then it’s settled. I’ll introduce you tomorrow.
— You do know I’m a “repeat offender,” right?
— I know everything, — she laughed.
The next day, a modest woman arrived, blushing the whole time.
— Don’t get the wrong idea…
— I won’t, — he smiled.
— Your animals are so sweet. You can tell they love you…
— How can you tell?
— The way they look at you… it’s special, — she sighed.
They sat and chatted. Bulka and Baron, tired from their walk, jumped onto the bench and listened attentively.
Twilight fell, the streetlights came on.
— I should go. Thank you for the evening.
Bulka whimpered. The woman patted her gently.
— Come by tomorrow, — he invited. — To pet the pup.
— After work — I will, if you don’t mind.
— We’ll be waiting, — he said, smiling.
That night, Baron grumbled to Bulka:
— Great, now he’s bringing a woman. She’ll take my spot. Kick me off the table…
Bulka licked his nose:
— But I love you most of all.
— Don’t lick me, dog! Ugh, your slobbery dog affection!
Baron wrapped his paws around her head. And fell asleep.
Tomorrow would be a new day. And everything would be all right.
How could it not? There was simply no other way.
