Semua Bab My Husband Shared Me:A New Year's Filthy Threesome: Bab 471 - Bab 480

The morning was socks, fruit, and the quiet one standing in the back-room door until Lily-Rose sat up.“I’m here.”“Okay.”They ate. The little one wanted the drawing taped on the fridge. His mother taped it. The other girl packed bags and did not mention Reed. Lily-Rose did not mention Mara.Gates. Heat. A teacher wave. The little one hid in her skirt and went. The quiet one walked in without looking back. That felt like trust. It also felt like a child saving their looking for later.Lily-Rose was at the two o’clock fence early. She stood where the teachers could see her. The quiet one came out, saw her, and put the bag in her hand. No talk. The bag was enough.Four o’clock Jimmy pulled in and did not honk.The little one ran to him. The quiet one touched Lily-Rose’s wrist, then went to the car. Jimmy saw the wrist. He said nothing in front of them.“Park,” he told the children. “Then home.”Lily-Rose stayed on the porch with his mother. They folded a sheet that did not need folding

Breakfast. The little one wanted jam on both sides. Lily-Rose did both sides. The quiet one ate toast and pushed a second piece toward her without looking up. His mother poured tea. The other girl packed bags. Nobody made a speech.Gate. Heat on the fence. The little one hid in her skirt and went. The quiet one put the bag strap in Lily-Rose’s fingers, took it back, and walked in. A teacher waved. Lily-Rose waved back and did not look at her pocket.Knee. The little one fell on the path home. Small cry. Grit in the skin. Lily-Rose sat on the step and washed it at the tap. Cold water. The child watched her face more than the sting. “You’re here,” the child said, like checking a fact, then wanted a biscuit. Lily-Rose got the biscuit.Bath. Soap. Warm water. The little one splashed. The quiet one sat on the closed lid and handed the towel when asked. Lily-Rose dried ears and necks and did not rush. His mother took the wet clothes. The other girl passed the door, saw it, and kept walking.

His mother found her at the sink before the bags were packed.“You look like you swallowed a stone.”Lily-Rose shut the tap.“Reed is gone. Sienna asked a question through him. When this month ends, do we sit in a room again, or is that finished.”His mother dried a plate that was already dry.“You told the girl?”“Yes.”“Good. Don’t tell the children the shape of it. Don’t tell the street. Tell me what you will do.”“I answer on the weekend. Not this morning. Not at the gate.”His mother nodded once.“Weekend. After they eat. After the park. You sit in this kitchen and you say it out loud to me and to her.” She tipped her head toward the hall, toward the other girl’s room. “Then you write it. Not the other way around.”Lily-Rose said, “All right.”The little one ran in with one shoe on. The talk died. Lily-Rose knelt and put the other shoe on. The quiet one watched from the doorway like the air had changed.Gates. Heat. A teacher wave. The little one hid in her skirt and went. The qu

The phone stayed dark through breakfast.Lily-Rose buttered toast and did not turn it over. The little one wanted jam. The quiet one watched her pocket anyway.The other girl put the bags by the door.“Don’t look at it at the gate.”“I won’t.”His mother poured tea.“She heard you. Silence is not always a truck. Eat.”They walked. Heat. Dust. The first teacher waved. The little one hid in her skirt and went. At the second gate Lily-Rose’s hand moved toward her pocket. The other girl said, “No,” without raising her voice.The quiet one looked at both of them.“Who.”“Nobody at school,” Lily-Rose said. “Go.”The child went in.Two o’clock she stood at the fence early. Shirt stuck to her back. She did not check the screen. The quiet one came out, put the bag in her hand, took it back, and walked beside her three steps.Four o’clock Jimmy pulled in. Park bag. The little one ran. The quiet one touched her wrist and went to the car.Jimmy stayed in the yard one minute.“You look like you ar

Lily-Rose woke to the little one pulling her sleeve, not to the phone.She got up. Toast. Bags. The quiet one watched her pocket and said nothing. His mother packed fruit. The other girl stood by the door like she already knew this morning had a second clock in it.“If she writes, you read it after the first gate,” the girl said.“After the first gate.”They walked. Heat. Dust. The little one hid in her skirt and went in. Lily-Rose did not look at the screen until the quiet one was through the second fence.One line.Sienna: I said no.Lily-Rose stopped on the path. A woman with a pram passed her. She stepped aside and called from the shade of a shop wall, back to the street, voice low.Sienna picked up fast.“I said no,” Sienna said again. “The last job was a person. A girl they wanted walked in soft. I would have been the door. I told Mara I am not collecting. She did not shout. She took the Sunday. She added days. I am still here.”Lily-Rose shut her eyes.“Are you hurt?”“No. Watc