Mine | ✔️

Chapter 25

Scarlett's P.O.V

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Cade asked as he finished up shaving.

"Well, I have physical therapy for two hours at eleven, and then Alice wants to go shopping," I replied.

"You and Alice seem to be spending a lot of time together these days. I assume all is well with you guys then?" he asked, looking at me through the mirror.

"Yeah, we both agreed it was a little while ago, so it doesn't matter. The past is the past, it's best we just move on. This past month she's been proving herself to be a changed woman, so you were right, absolutely harmless," I replied.

"That's good to hear, baby," he replied. "I'll be back late, so don't wait up for me," he said as he grabbed his bag.

"Oh, alright. Where are you going anyway? You've been coming home late quite a bit," I asked.

"I'm making money, baby. That's all you need to know," he replied. "There're more cookies on the counter. See you later," he said, and with a kiss on my forehead, he was gone.

"Well alright then," I said to myself. Grabbing the cookies and placing them in a ziplock bag, I grab my wallet and keys and wheel out the door. I'm going to have arms the size of the hulk once I'm out of this thing. Locking the door behind me, I head towards the elevator.

"Hey girl!" Alice exclaimed from the elevator, startling me.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I said as I wheeled myself into the elevator.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. You ready for your physical therapy appointment?" she asked.

"How do you know about that?" I asked.

"You told me that you have therapy every day from eleven to one. Remember?" she said as she pressed the button for the lobby.

No. "Oh, right," I replied.

"I'm so excited to go shopping later! Say, where do you get those cookies from? I see you always have them with you," she asked.

"Cade's mom bakes them and sends them over. They're highly addictive. I haven't been able to stop eating them for like five months now," I replied.

"Ah, that explains the little weight you put on," she replied with a chuckle.

"I also sit my ass in a chair for majority of the day," I added.

"Yeah, there's that too," she replies with another laugh. As we get ourselves situated in her car, she drives me to my therapy session. When the torment is over, we head to the mall where I become her personal bag holder.

"What do you think about this dress?" she asked, holding up a piece of cloth that looked like a cat got to it first.

"Um, where the fuck is the rest of it?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked, confusion written all over her face.

"What do you mean, what do I mean? That isn't a damn dress. That shit looks like it got hit by a nuclear bomb, a cat attempted to fix it, and then somebody decided adding glitter to it would make it better," I exclaimed.

"It's not that bad," she said, holding it against her in the mirror.

"To each their own, but I wouldn't ever wear that," I replied.

"Ugh, you're no fun. Here, hold these," she said, tossing the other ten dresses she was holding onto my lap before I could even protest.

"I'm gonna go make a phone call," I said, slowly wheeling away from her.