The whole excursion lasts about twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes of cuteness and sadness. Hopelessness and helplessness.
The entire time, Coco sleeps in my arms. Corm asks questions, pets animals, appears to be interested. It’s a pose, I know. He’s playing a part, and he’s doing a pretty good job of it.
I wonder if his care for me and his listening are also a pose. Has he had me fooled?
Ethel and her volunteers are all in awe of him. And some of them openly ogle him like I’m not even here.
On one hand, I’m enjoying the shadow. After years of living in the spotlight, this is a pleasant reprieve and freedom. I’m not the principal attraction. That role belongs to Corm, and he embraces it.
He doesn’t seem concerned about doing anything wrong, or making a wrong move. He flourishes in the limelight.
On the other hand, come on! I don’t deserve to be ignored. Being in the shadows by choice is one thing, but this?
Invisible. Insignificant. Alone.
I can step out. I should step out. I need to claim my spot beside him. But he doesn’t want me beside him.
If he did, I would have been there already. If only as a part of the charade, but still by his side.
I wander around the place, balancing Coco in one arm while I pet and stroke puppies, injured dogs, and cats. I get lost in the moment. These animals are the kindest creatures I’ve met recently.
Collective ooh and aah sighs of adoration draw my attention. I crane my neck to get a better view above the shoulders of the volunteers. What’s going on?
Jesus. If I thought Corm rolling up his sleeves was porn, I wasn’t prepared for this. Nestled in the crook of his elbow, sleeping on his brawny forearm, is a tiny kitten. White, and a little bigger than Coco, it stretches its paw and mews.
The camera keeps clicking, and I’m mesmerized by the sight. Arguably, a sexy man holding a kitten is a sight for sore eyes. But it’s Corm’s expression that steals my breath.
He’s looking down at the kitten, his eyes kind and adoring. There is a ghost of a smile—a genuine one—on his softened face.
And then he looks up, and his gaze finds mine. For a brief moment, he gives me the same look, and fuck, I want to bathe in it. I’ve been in a shadow for half an hour, and now, the sun turns to me, and it’s the warmest feeling.
It’s a fleeting moment, though, and Corm’s jaw sets rigidly immediately, and he puts the kitten down.
“Your job is to pose with him,” Betsy mutters beside me, startling me.
“He doesn’t need my help; the room is eating from the palm—”
“Saar, you’re not in this to express your opinions. This whole circus was planned to showcase you as a couple contributing to the community. You have a role to play.”
Her words dig deep into an already festering wound. It’s like working all over again. Just a prop.
“Here you are, sweetheart.” Corm’s voice stops me from telling Betsy to fuck off. His arm snakes around my waist, and I want to recoil and lean in at the same time. “Who do we have here?”
He strokes Coco with the pad of his thumb while the camera clicks around us.
“It’s Coco. Isn’t she adorable?” I push the words out, playing the fucking role and smiling for the camera. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and all that.
“As adorable as you,” Corm says loudly. “You’ll pay for the tux,” he whispers into my ear, and before I have a chance to react, he steps away and talks to Ethel.
His phone buzzes. “Ethel, thank you so much for your time and for this wonderful visit. Saar and I are so happy we could help a little.”
He turns and walks out into the front room.
“I’ll miss you,” I whisper to the ginger kitten. “I got quite attached to you, Coco.”
A volunteer takes her from me and puts her back with her siblings.