Semua Bab My Husband Shared Me:A New Year's Filthy Threesome: Bab 481 - Bab 490

Jimmy did not wait for four o’clock.He came after the first gate, while the little one was still in school. His mother saw the envelope and took him to the front room. Lily-Rose followed. The other girl stayed in the hall and listened anyway.Jimmy put the paper on the small table.“It’s stamped. This morning. We’re done on paper.”Lily-Rose read the top line. Her name. His name. Ended.She did not cry. She had already cried on the bathroom floor. This was only ink catching up.“All right.”Jimmy kept his hat in his hands.“I told Ma first. I didn’t tell the children. Don’t use the word in front of them.”“I won’t.”“You staying in the back room?”“Yes.”“I still take them at four.”“Yes.”That was the talk. Short. Ugly in its quiet. No fight left that would change the page.His mother took the paper.“I keep this high. Nobody waves it. Tonight we eat like we ate yesterday.”The other girl spoke from the hall.“So she is not your wife.”Jimmy looked at her.“She is their mother. I am

The quiet one stopped following her to every room.They started sitting instead. Kitchen chair. Porch step. End of the bed. Close enough to see her. Far enough to look like trust.Lily-Rose took it. She did not make a speech out of it.The little one wanted her hair done. Lily-Rose sat on the floor and worked the comb through knots. The child talked. A stone. A bird. A dream about a red shoe. Lily-Rose said “mm” in the right places and tied the last braid slow.The other girl watched from the doorway, then came in and held the clips.“You can do the left. I’ll do the right.”They did the hair together. No fight. No list. Just clips clicking.When the little one ran off, the girl said, “This is the part I wanted when you were gone. Not a thank you. This.”Lily-Rose looked at her.“Then stay in it. I am not taking the chair from you.”The girl shrugged like the words were heavy and still took them.Jimmy came, took them out, brought them back. Dust on shoes. He stood in the yard and loo

Lily-Rose woke with the call still in her jaw.Not words. The scrape of Sienna’s voice. The cut-off. The empty air after.She sat on the edge of the mattress and pressed her thumb into the opposite palm until the skin hurt. Then she stood and went to do hair.The little one sat between her knees and hummed. Lily-Rose worked the comb from the nape up. A snarl caught. The child hissed. Lily-Rose eased it, tied the braid, kissed the crown, and sent them to find socks.The quiet one hovered at the dresser with a shirt held to their chest.“Your eyes are red.”“I slept badly. I’m not going out.”The child stared, then pulled the shirt on backwards. Lily-Rose turned it without a lecture.The other girl poured water and watched her swallow.“You got your minute. Don’t spend today living inside it.”“I’m not.”“You are. Your shoulders are up. Put them down before the quiet one copies you.”Lily-Rose dropped her shoulders. It felt like work.They left for the fence. Sun on tin roofs. A goat ti

Jimmy said it in the yard, after the children ran inside with the torn kite.“Jax left. Reed saw him take a bus two days back. He’s not in this town.”Lily-Rose wiped dust off her hands onto her skirt.“Good.”“That’s all you have?”“That’s all he gets.”Jimmy looked at the gate like he wanted a longer fight and could not find a clean place to put it.“He started in our house.”“You opened that door. He walked in. I lived it. I’m not living it again on this dirt.”Jimmy’s jaw worked. He nodded once and left.His mother had heard enough from the window. She did not come out. When Lily-Rose went in, she only said, “Let that name stay outside.”The other girl was mending a strap on a school bag.“So the first one is gone too.”“Yes.”“Do you feel lighter?”Lily-Rose thought of New Year. A knock. A man Jimmy chose. A marriage that wanted a show. Heat that had not been love. A map that later grew into Hale.“I feel finished with that door,” she said. “Not light. Finished.”The girl bit the

Thursday the other girl took the pickup.Lily-Rose stayed home with his mother and a pile of wet clothes. She hung shirts on the line. A sleeve slapped her wrist. Soap smell. Sun on the wet cloth. She listened for the gate and did not follow it.They came back loud.The little one had a sweet in each cheek and talked around it. The quiet one walked in first, saw Lily-Rose at the basin, and put their bag on the right hook without being told. That small right hook did more to her chest than a speech.The other girl dropped her own bag and kicked her shoes off. One shoe hit the wall. She picked it up, annoyed at herself, and set it straight.“They were early. I was earlier.”Lily-Rose wrung a shirt.“Thank you.”“Don’t thank me like a guest. My name is on the page.”His mother pointed at the notebook on the table.“And it stays there next week. I already told you that. Wash your hands. Eat.”They sat. Rice. Stew. The girl talked about a teacher who had asked who was collecting. She had s