“Chris? What are you doing here?” I asked him. I hear Brittany let out a breathy laugh as she gets out of the car too.
“It’s the weekend! I get weekend visitation at least, right?” Chris asks with a playful smirk on his face.
“It’s a cat, dude. Quit treating it like a kid,” Brittany rolls her eyes at him.
“Hey, don’t talk about our daughter like that,” Chris scoffs in faux irritation.
“If you want to claim visitation rights, you can fork up half the cost of the vet bill,” I smiled at him, “She’s already quite expensive, but if you insist on co-parenting, I won’t stop you.”
“Already did,” he grins proudly, “Betty at the veterinarian should be calling you Monday. Pickles has all her first-year shots and even her spay paid for.”
“What?” I looked at him in shock. I was just joking wi
