Lover ; George Weasley

Twelve

"Mum she's peeing on the floor again!"

That's how my first day of my week with the girls started. I had picked them up from school and while I was cooking dinner, Elsie had shouted that.

I found Leah in the living room and she started crying immediately when I approached her.

I took her hand, walked to the bathroom and comforted her while changing her diaper. Though she wouldn't stop crying so I held her on my arm where she fell asleep while I cooked.

"Elsie, can you make the table?" I asked and glanced over at my oldest daughter who was doing her homework.

"Yes mummy."

She packed her homework away before she started making the table while I finished up dinner.

"Leah, darling." I whispered, rocking her slightly in my arms to wake her softly.

As she woke up, I pulled my head back slightly to get a look at her face. She lifted her head off of my shoulder, rubbing her eyes before she looked around in confusion.

Though as she looked at me, she started smiling widely, her eyes shining with happiness and recognition.

"Did you have a good nap?" I asked softly, brushing my knuckles over her cheek.

She simply put her head against my neck while her other hand grabbed onto my shirt.

I walked over to the table and sat her down in her high chair while Elsie made the table.

Then the front door opened and at the sound of Inez' voice, Elsie got distracted, ditched the plates and ran out to greet her.

I sighed, but took over and made the rest of the table while Inez entered the kitchen, arm wrapped around Elsie's shoulders as they walked and talked at the same time.

"Are you here for dinner?" I asked. "I haven't made enough for four."

Inez looked at me.

"No that's alright." She smiled as Elsie sat down in her chair. "Dove and I had a fight but I've already eaten. I'm just here to calm down."

"A fight you say?" I asked as she then sat down. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She nodded. I walked over to sit down next to Leah, pouring her some food. I gave her her fork and watched as she started eating at the same time as Elsie poured herself some.

"How was your week with daddy?" I asked, looking mainly at Elsie as she was the only one able to explain.

Leah was two years old and three months, meaning she can explain things in baby language but no one would be able to understand it. Leah can speak — of course she can speak but you can't expect a two-year-old to tell an entire story.

I looked at Elsie as she shrugged at my question.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean; I don't know?"

"He yells a lot." She said, staring down at her food. "He got mad at me because I dropped my glass of milk."

I sat up straight.

"He yelled at you because you dropped your glass of milk?"

"Yeah... but I didn't mean to!" She hurried to say as she looked at me. "Anna hugged me and I wasn't prepared and then I dropped it."

"Who's Anna?" I asked with a frown as Inez looked at her as well.

"She's daddy's friend. She was there when we got home from school. She wasn't wearing any pants."

My eyes widened a little and Inez and I exchanged glances before looking at Elsie again who was eating her food.

That night, I couldn't stop thinking about anything else.

I didn't like to use yelling as a form of parenting my girls. In my mind, it causes fear and I don't want my children to grow up and be scared of me. I want them to be able to come with me with any problem they have.

Something else I didn't like was Malcolm yelling at them. Or the fact that he's got a woman walking around the house with no pants on when my girls are there.

The next day after dropping off the girls, I called Bill and let him know that I would be a bit late and then I apparated to Malcolm's house.

Just as I appeared, he was leaving the house, locking the door behind him.

He turned and paused when he saw me.

"Dahlia?"

"I thought we agreed on how to raise the girls." I said, approaching him. "Yelling at Elsie because she dropped a glass of milk that your new fuck buddy caused her to drop?"

When he realised what I was talking about, he sighed. He pushed his keys into his pocket before folding his arms over his chest.

"If you yell at them, you'll teach them to be scared of you." I said. "And don't fucking have a stranger walk around with no clothes on when they're there."

"I'm sorry but how's that any of your business?" He asked. "You happen to be talking about my girlfriend."

I shrugged.

"Okay, I don't care. I don't want their first time meeting your girlfriend to be when she's not wearing any pants." I said. "And I don't want her hugging Elsie without asking her first. You know Elsie doesn't like when strangers touch her."

"Elsie is being dramatic." He raised his eyebrows at me. "She's seven years old. She's seen the way you act and she's copying it."

As he walked past me, I grabbed onto his arm to make him stop, but immediately he grabbed my wrist, tightening his hand so hard that it started hurting.

I whispered as he forced my hand away from his arm.

"Ow, Malcolm!" I exclaimed. "Let go of me... you're hurting me."

His expression softened for a moment and he let go of me. Immediately I wrapped my own hand around my wrist, soothing the skin which was now redder than ever, marked from how hard he had grabbed me.

"Dahlia—"

"Don't fucking touch me!" I raised my voice as he reached out for me. "I'm simply begging you to be careful with who you let around the girls. I don't know if your relationship is serious but I know what you're like and I don't want a million girls to meet them only for them to leave again when you decide to get someone new."

Malcolm fully turned towards me and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers while I was still soothing my wrist.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said. "I've been with you since I was nineteen."

"Oh please." I laughed. "I know you've had girlfriend after girlfriend throughout our marriage. I'm not fucking stupid."

He suddenly walked towards me with fast steps, but I stood my ground and didn't move. When he stood in front of me, he stared down at me and scoffed.

"You know nothing." He said in a low and threatening voice. The same voice he always spoke in when he was about to slap me, but I wasn't about to let him scare me again. "Go back to your own boyfriend and your new perfect life, instead of judging mine."

He turned back around and I watched him as he walked away, then disapparated.

I wanted to scream.

He made me so fucking angry.

As if I never noticed the hickeys on his face when he'd come home after a night out, or the way he'd smell like somebody else's perfume. The lipstick that would be smeared on the skin of his neck and his jaw, or the way his clothed looked messy as if he had had to pull it off quickly and put it back in just as quick.

He had cheated on me multiple times throughout our marriage but I was simply always too scared to confront him about it.