Chapter 3The Ghost in My Phone

I was going to kill Jake.

He killed my cat. Because of him, I wasn't there to hold him in his final moments.

That day, one of Jake's idiot friends had filmed the confrontation at my office and posted it online.

"Unbelievable. My buddy's girlfriend is a total gold-digger. He treats her like a queen, and she dumps him over a cat."

"He goes to her office to try and win her back, and she attacks him like a psycho. It's tough being a man these days."

The comments section was a dumpster fire.

"Rule 1: Never date a crazy cat lady. Just run."

"These chicks treat their cats like gods. It's sick."

"It's an animal. Animals die. Your boyfriend is trying to apologize, and you're acting like this? He should dump you."

The video showed me, hair wild, attacking Jake while he backed away, a "patient, loving" expression on his face. At the end, his friend asked him off-camera, "Dude, just give up. She slapped you just for missing a call from the vet. Why do you want her back?"

And Jake, sighing like a martyr, said, "It was my fault, I didn't see the cat. Maya's a good girl. She'll come around."

"Redefining 'good girl.'"

"I assault my boyfriend in public, but I'm a good girl."

"This is why women shouldn't have rights. Her man is right there, and she cares more about a flea-bitten animal."

"Wow, her boyfriend is so hot and patient. Does anyone have his @?"

...

I was dogpiled online. Men showed up at my office with signs.

FIRE THE ABUSIVE CAT LADY!

BITCHES BE CRAZY!

APOLOGIZE!!!

I started losing my hair. I couldn't sleep. But I refused to back down. The D.A. was slow to press charges. Jake kept texting me from blocked numbers.

"Give it up. You can't win."

I didn't care. I put my condo up for sale.

I needed money for the best lawyer I could find. I wanted that bastard to pay.