Alle Kapitel von My Husband’s Brother, My Filthy Trainer: Kapitel 51 – Kapitel 60

MIAJake’s car left first.I was still in the living room when the sound of it faded down the street. The mat was rolled up. My water bottle sat on the coffee table. The house felt too quiet after his voice, like the walls had been holding their breath and only now remembered how to be a home.Ryan closed his laptop.“That was better than yesterday,” he said. “You still freeze when he stands behind you.”I picked up the bottle. “I don’t want to fall.”“Then don’t act like his hands are fire.” He stood and stretched. “He’s my brother. He’s here because I allowed it. You should look grateful, not nervous.”I went to the kitchen because I needed the sink between us. He followed.“You heard what I said in there,” Ryan continued. “I’m still trying to fix you. Most men would have stopped after the body, after the mood, after you started sleeping in another room. I didn’t.”I turned on the tap. “I know.”“Do you?” He leaned against the counter. “Because you walk around this house like I chea

MIARyan’s phone rang in the middle of the stretch.He looked at the screen, already irritated. “I have to take this.” Then, to Jake: “Don’t finish without me in the room.”Jake didn’t even blink. “We’ll get air. Two minutes.”Ryan pointed at me like I was a child. “Stay where I can see you from the window.”He went inside. The glass door shut, but not all the way. His voice started up in the living room, sharp and professional.Jake walked toward the porch like he owned the shade. I followed because standing alone on the mat felt worse. The afternoon heat sat on my skin. His car was parked too close to the steps, dark and clean, the same way he always looked after he wrecked me and then washed his hands.“You used to go quiet around me,” he said.I frowned. “What?”“Family dinners. Birthdays. That New Year at this house.” He leaned against the porch pillar, arms loosely crossed. “You talked to Ryan. You talked to my mother. You barely looked at me.”I picked at the hem of my shirt. “

MIAThe mat was already on the living room floor when Jake arrived.He didn’t look at me when Ryan opened the door. He set his bag down, nodded once, and pointed at the mat.“Ten squats. Then hinges. Keep your hands on your hips.”Ryan sat on the sofa with his laptop. “You heard him.”I stepped onto the mat. “Good morning.”Jake checked the time on his phone. “Start.”That was the first wrong thing. No glance at my face. No quiet remark. No heat under the words. He sounded like a stranger hired by the hour.I lowered into the first squat. My legs were still sore from the last session. A small sound left my throat on the way up, more breath than voice.Jake didn’t react.Ryan did. He looked up from the screen. “You okay?”“Yes,” I said. “Just tight.”“Keep the chest up,” Jake said. “You’re folding again.”I waited for his hands. They didn’t come. He stood two steps away, arms crossed, watching my knees like I was any client who had paid for an hour.“Jake.”“Four more.”“Can you look a

MIAI texted him again before the sun was fully up.The first message from last night was still sitting there with no reply.Did I do something?I typed a second one with my thumb hovering too long over send.At least tell me you’re okay.I sent it.The check mark appeared. Then nothing. No typing bubble. No short cold answer. Just the same silence he had given me at dinner when he put his fork down and walked out.I locked the phone and put it face-down on the guest-room sheet. That lasted less than a minute. I turned it over again.Still nothing.Ryan’s voice came from the hallway. “You’re up early.”I sat up too fast. “I couldn’t sleep.”He opened the door without knocking. His eyes went straight to the phone in my hand.“Who are you waiting for?”“No one.”“Then stop looking at it like that.” He leaned on the frame. “You’ve been restless since last night. Checking, locking, checking again. It’s annoying.”I set the phone on the nightstand. “I’m just tired.”“Tired people sleep. Yo

MIAI could not sleep.The guest room was too quiet. The air conditioner hummed. Down the hall, Ryan’s door was shut. My phone sat on the pillow like it might change its mind if I stared long enough.It didn’t.The two messages were still there.Did I do something?
At least tell me you’re okay.No reply.I opened the chat, closed it, opened it again. The empty space under my words looked louder at midnight than it had by the pool.Clara.The name kept coming back. Pretty. Stable. A clinic family outside Chicago. A clean dinner this week. A woman his mother chose so Jake would stop playing around.I rolled onto my side and pressed my face into the pillow. Jealousy sat in my stomach like spoiled food. Then shame sat on top of it. I had no right. I was married. I had let Ryan touch me to keep the peace. I had moaned Jake’s name in the wrong bed. I had nothing of my own — no family, no friend, no other house — and I was still lying here angry that another woman might get the man who said