got into it with another cat, maybe even a feral pig. They run wild in some spots here.”
Callum holds the cat while Dr. Choi runs a scanner along its body to check if he’s chipped.
“I’m not getting anything,” Dr. Choi says. “Definitely looks like he’s a runaway or abandoned by his family.”
He flips the cat over to check to see if it’s fixed.
“Oops!” Dr. Choi says. “Looks like this little guy is a gal.” He frowns as he presses against her gushy tummy. “And if I’m not mistaken, she’s pregnant.”
My jaw falls open at the same moment that Callum’s eyes go wide.
“Congrats!” Dr. Choi grins. “You’ve got a litter of fur babies on the way.”
Dr. Choi explains that the cat is likely a couple weeks along, then says that the injured tail will be an easy fix with some stitches. He instructs Callum to hold the cat while he administers a vaccination.
My eyes glaze over as I observe the doctor and Callum work in tandem. There’s no way I have enough money to pay for this appointment, let alone a slew of new pets. Anything more than zero dollars will send my tight budget into a tailspin.
I fall onto the nearby bench, speechless, as Dr. Choi takes the cat to a room in the back to stitch her. For a minute, I say nothing, processing the news that was just sprung on me.
“You all right?”
I glance up at Callum, the concern in his hazel eyes like a static shock to my system. I almost forgot about the kindness I spotted in them the day we met.
“This is . . . um . . .” I stammer another nonsensical sound.
He sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll take care of it.”
“What?”
“I’ll take care of the bill.”
I squint up at him. “But . . . why?”
He shrugs, turning back to the computer screen to type. “It’s nothing, really.”
My head spins. Why is he offering to cover this expense? It’s not like we’re friends.
“Last time I checked, vet visits cost money. That’s not nothing.”
He practically glares at the computer screen. “And?”
“And I just don’t get why—”
The door swings open, and Dr. Choi walks back in holding the cat, a plastic cone around her head. “Good as new!”
Setting the cat on the counter, he explains the post-suture care and cleaning routine. The cone is to prevent her from licking her stitches. Callum swipes a cardboard cat carrier from under the counter and places the cat inside. I’m still speechless, unable to say a word after soaking in his offer to pay for the bill I just racked up.
“You’re good to go!” Dr. Choi says. “Just check out with Brenda at reception, and she’ll help you get the bill sorted.”
“I’ll show her out.” Callum swipes the carrier from the counter and opens the door.
He marches in the direction of the reception desk with such long strides that I have to almost jog to keep up. I grip the towel at my hip to keep it in place.
“Hey!” I say in a shrill whisper to keep from making a scene. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”
But he continues without a word, fishing his wallet out of his pocket when the receptionist smiles up at him.
“I’ve got this,” I say quickly.
“No.”
He doesn’t even look at me when he speaks. When Brenda the receptionist swipes his card from his hand and runs it through the card reader, I know I’ve lost. It’s the most confusing, deflated feeling I’ve ever experienced. Yes, what he did was generous. But I don’t understand why. Why in the world would he want to help me, the person he’s supposed to destroy?
Brenda hands Callum a receipt, which he pockets.
She smiles as the cat presses her face against the carrier. “Did you decide on a name for this cutie-pie?”
I blurt the first word that comes to mind. “Lemon.”
“Lemon?” Callum says, clearly confused.
Brenda chuckles sweetly. “Oh, that’s just precious.”
I thank her, grab the carrier, and move to the sitting area by the entrance. Callum follows me.
“I’ll write you a check later. To pay you back,” I mutter while fiddling with the handle of the carrier.
“Not necessary.” He sighs, like he’s annoyed at my presence, even though he’s the one who decided to stand next to me. This guy is impossible to decode.
“Oh, it’s necessary.” I remind myself to rein in my irritated tone.
We’re technically in a public place, and we need to maintain some degree of civility. Every time I fail to get