where only the sweetest words remain

chapter four

February 2029

"Bruno's food is in the cabinet by the fridge. There's two kinds: wet and dry. Feed him a can of the wet every morning and night, twelve hours apart—you have to microwave it for exactly six seconds, otherwise he won't eat it. I rotate different flavors for every meal, but his favorites are the tuna and rabbit au jus. For the dry, leave out twenty-five grams for him during the day and pour half a teaspoon of salmon oil over it too; it's really good for him. Lastly, we keep bottles of spring water on the shelf below, so just make sure his bowl is filled at all times. Got it?"

Rebe blinks at her for several seconds, then turns to Samuel. "Is she serious?"

"Unfortunately, yes," he chuckles.

Glaring at both of them, but mostly at her boyfriend, Carla says, "I can always leave you behind and bring Bruno on this road trip with me instead."

Samuel doesn't even cower in the slightest, just huffs another affectionate laugh before addressing Rebe. "Look, I know it's a lot, so we really appreciate you watching him and the apartment for us while we're gone. And in Carla's defense, he actually won't touch the food if it hasn't been warmed up to the perfect temperature."

"Jesus. Of course a marquise's cat would be this high maintenance," the brunette mutters, shaking her head in disbelief.

Carla narrows her eyes. "Is there a problem?"

"There's no problem at all. I'm just saying how it's not surprising whatsoever," Rebe replies. "Do I even want to know how much that rabbit au jus shit costs?"

"No, you definitely do not," Samuel says amusedly as he walks over to collect their remaining bags. He's already loaded their bigger suitcases into the car, and the two backpacks that he slings over each shoulder are nothing for him to handle on his own.

Not that Samuel potentially pulling a muscle or something is at the top of Carla's list of worries at the moment.

"Are you sure you've got everything memorized?" She asks Rebe.

The other girl rolls her eyes in light exasperation. "Yeah, yeah." She shrugs. "How hard could it be?"

A frown begins to form on Carla's features, because that does absolutely nothing to ease her worries. "He has to stick to a strict and precise feeding schedule, or else he'll get fat and develop health problems."

"I'm pretty sure that cat is in better shape than I am," Rebe replies with a scoff, gesturing to where Bruno is grooming himself on the couch, unaware or just uncaring of what's currently going on around him. But the brunette seems to sense that Carla is genuinely concerned, because she sighs slowly, then quirks her lips in a smile and bumps their arms together in a gesture of reassurance. "One can of wet food in the morning, one at night, microwave it for six seconds on the dot. Pour salmon oil over his dry food. Twenty-five grams. Give him fancy water because tap isn't good enough for him. I promise, your four-legged son is gonna be just fine with me, blondie."

Despite herself, Carla smirks, and she feels the tension ease out of her shoulders. But still, mostly joking now, she adds, "Spring water contains natural vitamins and minerals that tap doesn't."

Rebe laughs. "I'll take your word for it."

"Are we all set?" Samuel asks. "The drive to Venice takes eighteen hours, and we're already running behind schedule."

He wisely doesn't try to insinuate that they're late because of Carla's very thorough rundown of Bruno's routine, so she nods her head without much preamble. "Let me just say goodbye."

Bruno perks up from his spot on the couch as soon as he notices that it's Carla approaching him, gently butting his head in her hand when she smooths it over his ears. She watches him sadly as he purrs, very reluctant to leave him behind all of a sudden. This vacation is something they've been planning—and needing—for a while though, and it's not like they can bring a cat on the road with them. Realistically, he'd be miserable.