The crisp layer of overnight snow crunches beneath my socked feet. I can already feel the cold seeping in through the hole by my big toe, but I have other things to take care of first.

"Please, Elsie," I cry, "wait!"

Elsie—my darling catfolk girlfriend—tosses a heaping pile of my clothes over the handrail. I catch as many things as I can, adding them to the rapidly growing pile in my arms, but several shirts flitter through the lamplight as they drift into the snowbank.

"Wait for what?" she says, narrowing her pretty green eyes as she leans back into our apartment. Her long white tail twitches angrily behind her as she grabs something from the hallway. When she reemerges, she's got my old cloak in her hands. "For you to get a job? Or for you to learn how to fuck me right?"

I wince. That hurts.

Unable to meet her harsh gaze, I let my gaze fall to my cloak. It's one of the only things I brought with me when I moved to the city. Seeing it all clenched up in her sharp claws makes me swallow.

"Elsie, calm down. Let's just—"

"No!" she exclaims and it's almost a relief when she launches the cloak. The old wool goes flying through the air; I have to drop a few shirts and two pairs of pants in order to catch it.

"I'm tired of wasting my time on things that'll never happen." She crosses her arms. Her usually immaculate fur is all puffed up, she takes up the whole doorway. Behind her, the warm light from our apartment feels so close yet so far away. "You're hopeless, Lex. Sorry, but I just can't carry you anymore."

There's a building sense of panic now—usually when she has a tantrum I can placate her with an expensive dessert or some fancy cosmetics. This feels different. With my clothes all over the sidewalk, this is starting to feel final.

This can't be happening! I take an urgent step forward, nearly stumbling up the stairs in my haste. I reach for her hand. "I'll try harder, I promise! I just need a bit more—"

Elsie jerks her hand out of reach, glaring down at me. Her pupils are slits, and her upper lip is starting to lift in a snarl.

"Just take your shit and go!" she yells. "I never want to see your useless face again."

"But I lov—!"

Elsie swings inside and the door slams closed with a loud bang. I have to hurry backward as a clump of snow comes careening down from the rafters.

I stand there in shock for a few minutes. My socks are wet and heavy now, soaked through with the cold, but I'm too numb to notice.

Oh, Elsie. Why?

I know I'm not a perfect girlfriend—I had lost my job at the bakery two weeks ago, but I'd been out every day looking for something new. And I always gave my all in bed. Was it my fault I couldn't seem to make her come? I tried everything I knew, always trying so hard to please her. And despite her good looks, Elsie isn't perfect, either. I know she's been visiting that busty barista on her lunch breaks instead of coming home to have lunch together.

I always forgive her. Why can't she forgive me? Or am I really that irredeemable?

I feel a little bit of warmth and it takes a few moments to realize it's the tears running down my cheeks. Choking back a sob, I fall forward onto my knees. The snow on the sidewalk is icy and hard, but maybe it's better than the stone sidewalk. I blink away the tears, looking hopelessly at everything I own spread out around me in the snow.

This is awful. What am I going to do?

The sound of whispering has me brushing the tears from my face. That was quite a scene, and we're in a busy residential area. Naturally the neighbors would come out to see.

Well, not that they're my neighbors anymore.

I can't stay here. I'll need to find somewhere to spend the night. I sniffle loudly as I collect my belongings from the snow. Maybe Elsie will change her mind and come after me tomorrow.

As soon as I think it I realize it's not going to happen. She's never come after me before—I've always been the one chasing after and trying to please her.

I grab my boots and tug them on halfheartedly. Once I have everything, after a moment of deliberation, I wrap it up tightly in my cloak. The shame and embarrassment are keeping me warm for now; I'm too numb to feel the cold anyway.

I look up for the last time at the door to the apartment where I've spent the past three months living with my girlfriend.

With a sigh, I heave my makeshift bundle of everything I own over my shoulder and head down the street.