Legally Cynical

Hospital

Beatrice's POV

"Don't thank me dear. Keep up the good work and remember what I said." I grab my bag and my sunglasses and leave. That was fun.

Shit I forgot my wine. Oh well it's too embarrassing to go back now. I call a taxi and go home.

Later that evening 

I arrive home and feel a wash of solitude. My therapist tells me this is perhaps why I marry so much because I hate being alone. She was lovely but she knew me too well and so I left and never returned because feeling vulnerable is awful. I walk through my halls full of art from small businesses I've accumulated over the time of owning this place. I think it's a coping mechanism but it's not hurting anyone so we will just let it be. Then I have the most brilliant idea. I think I need a pet of some sort to keep me company. Perfect! A kitten is just what I need. It's the perfect way for my house to start feeling like a home.

I start my car and drive towards a pet shop. I love shopping at night because the world feels like a ghost town and I hate pretty much everyone I meet with the odd exception. I see a beautiful fluffy pink bed and a sparkly food bowl with a matching water bowl. I put that in the shopping trolley and continue through the isles. I buy a mouse kitten litter tray and pink kitten litter. I've decided to go for a pink theme. I asked a vet clinic before hand which the best food for kittens is and bought the same one. I thought the price was quite extortionate but oh well. I buy plenty of kitten toys and all the other essentials you could possibly think of. 

I drive back home and set up the kitten nook. I bought these shelves which the kitten can climb up when they are older and a scratching post shaped like a cactus. It was the least offensive to the eyes. Once it's all put together I start overthinking. It's like midnight and maybe I was delirious. I go to my bedroom and get ready to sleep. A message pops through as I'm brushing my teeth.

*unknown number*: hi Beatrice it's Oliver. I've been told we have to get to know each other. I have no doubt that George will message you shortly. Know that this is possibly the worst way to spend my time.

Well that's fucking weird.

Me: hey Oliver is this what you do in your spare time? Message girls who are engaged at ungodly hours. Honestly you do you at the end of the day. ❤️

Oliver 🫒: I'll pick you up tomorrow.

Me: wait I didn't even say anything... the polite thing to do is actually ask if I'm free. Also here's a tip darling, when texting girls don't mention how you'd like to spend your time.

[seen at 01:23]

Well then. He will just have to come with me to get the new addition. It's this or a tattoo. Sam would kill me if I got the latter so a kitten it is.

Investment 🤑: hello my darling bee bee. I'm so sorry but you have to go out with my brother tomorrow. Father insists. After this you'll never speak to him again. They want to know you love me and I know you do darling. If he tries anything you let me know xx

Me: ok xx

I wasn't in the mood for his questioning of where I am and who I'm with so I tend to keep replies short as possible. At this point I'm exhausted and decide to sleep away the thought of having to spend the day with Oliver and tonight's epic fail of a dinner.

When texting George it's important to know that kisses on the end of his messages are a way of blunting whatever he's saying. He once had a talk with me because I didn't send kisses. It's revolting in an adult relationship, in my opinion, and I've only just started with it now.