Smore pointed at the window and exclaimed, “I like it here, there are so many little birds. They go cuckoo-cuckoo-cuckoo-cuckoo!”
Smore was talking about the pigeons that frequented a nearby plaza. The flock sometimes took off into the air simultaneously, resulting in a magnificent, eye-catching spectacle.
Mark spent his time after dinner watching TV with Smore on his lap. Arianne seized the chance to ask, “So, what time are you going back?”
He turned toward her, displeasure shadowing his frown. “You want me to go already? Well, I’m not going anywhere. In fact, I’ve asked Mary to pack some of my clothes and put them here. From now on, this is where I live.”
Arianne had long expected him to do that. “I’m being serious here, Mark. You gotta go back there from time to time, ya’ know. Wouldn’t want a certain someone to pick a fight with me over this.”
Mark might have said something to the effect of “yes”, but it was obvious he did not mean a single word of it. Knowing that he had retreated paying lip service at everything Arianne was going to say, the woman decided to stop asking him to go. After all, it was not like he would listen.
For several days from then, Mark had been spending his free time in Arianne’s place. He worked during the weekends while Arianne spent quality time with Smore at home. Sometimes, Tiffany would be there, too. Ever since coming to know that Arianne had divorced, the woman had been visiting her every few days whenever the whim struck her.
On one of these weekends, the day was interrupted by a sudden ringing in the bell. Mary, who was doing her daily cleaning nearby, went to open the door.
It was Shelly, whom Mary immediately blocked from entering. “What are you doing here? I’ve cleaned and checked every part of this house; ain’t got any of your stuff left anymore.”
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