Summary: Between long hospital shifts and emotional burnout, the only thing keeping you and Trinity grounded is the tiny, chaotic family you’ve built together—your cats. When a particularly rough day pushes Trinity to her limit, it’s the quiet comfort of home, soft fur, and you that reminds her she’s not alone.
The first thing Trinity noticed when she walked through the apartment door wasn’t the quiet.
It was the absence of tiny paws sprinting across the hardwood.
Her brow furrowed, exhaustion still clinging to her bones from a brutal shift. “Okay… that’s weird.”
Usually, the moment the lock clicked, your cats came running—one meowing like they’d been starved for years (dramatic), the other silently judging from a distance before deciding if Trinity was worthy of affection that evening.
But today?
Nothing.
“Babe?” she called, toeing off her shoes. “You alive in here or did the cats finally overthrow you?”
From the living room came a soft laugh. “We’re in here.”
Trinity followed your voice, shoulders finally dropping as she stepped into the room—and immediately froze at the sight.
You were curled up on the couch, one cat tucked against your chest, the other sprawled across your lap like they paid rent. A blanket cocooned the three of you, your fingers absentmindedly tracing soft patterns into fur.
And for a second, Trinity just… stood there.
Because after everything—the chaos, the noise, the constant pressure of the hospital—this felt like stepping into another world.
“You look like a literal cat commercial,” she muttered, dropping her bag by the door.
You grinned, tilting your head. “Jealous?”
“Extremely,” she said without hesitation, already moving toward you. “I work a twelve-hour shift and they don’t even greet me?”
As if summoned by pure audacity, one of the cats lifted its head, blinked slowly at Trinity… then went right back to sleep.
You snorted. “Yeah, they’ve decided I’m the favorite parent.”
“Unbelievable. I feed them too, you know.”
“Barely. You forget half the time.”
“Once,” Trinity shot back, though there was no bite in it. Just tired fondness.
She sank onto the couch beside you, careful not to disturb the delicate ecosystem of cats draped over your body. Still, one of them shifted, stretching dramatically before climbing into Trinity’s lap like they’d been waiting for her all along.
“Oh, now you remember me,” she murmured, scratching under its chin.
You watched her soften instantly, the tension in her jaw easing, her shoulders relaxing for the first time all day.
“Rough shift?” you asked quietly.
Trinity let out a long breath, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah. One of those days where everything that could go wrong… did.”
You didn’t push. You never did. Instead, you just shifted closer, resting your head against her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you murmured.
She shook her head lightly. “It’s… part of it. Just gets heavy sometimes.”
A beat passed. Then another.
One of the cats let out a tiny, content purr—like it knew exactly what was needed.
Trinity huffed out a small laugh. “We really became cat moms, huh?”
“Hey,” you said, mock offended. “This is a very serious responsibility.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” she teased. “I’ve seen the way you talk to them. Full baby voice.”
“You do it too!”
“I do not.”
Right on cue, she looked down at the cat in her lap and softened her voice instinctively. “Who’s a good little menace, huh?”
You burst out laughing.
“Okay—traitor,” she added, pointing at the cat like it had set her up.
The room settled into something warm after that—quiet, but not empty. The kind of quiet that felt earned.
Trinity leaned her head gently against yours, closing her eyes.
“This helps,” she admitted softly.
You didn’t ask what she meant. You already knew.
So instead, you pressed a small kiss to her shoulder.
“Good,” you whispered. “That’s what we’re here for.”
She smiled—small, tired, but real.
And as the cats shifted between you, purring softly like tiny engines of comfort, Trinity decided maybe she could handle another day tomorrow.
Wife and I moved in with my mom about a month ago to get out of an unideal situation. Job hunting but nothing yet. In the meantime we're trying everything we can to bring in extra income. I offer pendulum work, we both offer art and short story commissions, tarot readings, and handmade jewelry and things on etsy and we both have a redbubble. I'm working on books of my own but she actually has some up on her author page already. We even got desperate and started a GoFundMe. Plus if anyone is bored and wants to check them out we also do youtube and tiktok as a hobby. Our links are below if anyone is interested in any of our services.
Author/Artist/Actor catmom, tarot reader. I am the jack of all trades.
An aspiring author, artist, and youtuber just trying to support herself, her wife, and fur and scale babies (3 cats and a ball python)
UPDATE: Wife was able to find a job, but I'm still looking. Deleted the GoFundMe as things have improved greatly, but still trying to contribute financially through my art/writing/tarot/crafts.
Do you ever want to be a cat? No work no worries just meow meow
Yes
No wtf
Meow
Voting ended onApr 29, 2024
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