Chapter 8 - The Breaking Point
The argument that followed echoed through the thin walls of the row house for an hour.
"I gave up everything for you!" Vanessa screamed, throwing a plastic cup against the kitchen wall. "I could have married a real billionaire! I married a boy who lived off his mother's apron strings!"
"Then go find a real billionaire, Vanessa!" Daniel shouted back, tears of pure rage filling his eyes. "The door is right there! Leave!"
"I am taking Noah with me!" she yelled, reaching for the crib.
Daniel stepped between her and the crib, his posture firm, his eyes terrifyingly dark. "You touch that crib, and I call the police. You haven't changed a single diaper in three weeks without complaining. You don't care about Noah. You care about using him as a bargaining chip against my mother!"
Vanessa froze. She looked at Daniel, seeing for the first time that the weak, pliable man she had manipulated for four years was gone. In his place was someone who looked strikingly like Eleanor Vance.
"Fine!" Vanessa spat, her voice raspy with fury. She snatched her purse and designer coat from the rack. "Keep your stupid baby in this filthy house! I am going to stay with my father in New Jersey! My lawyers will be in touch for the divorce papers!"
She slammed the front door so hard the glass pane rattled.
The silence that followed was absolute.
Daniel stood alone in the dim living room. The sound of the wind howling outside the window was the only noise in the house. He walked over to the crib, where little Noah had woken up and was watching him with big, clear dark eyes—eyes that looked just like Eleanor's.
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Daniel reached down, gently scooping his son into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest.
He collapsed onto the old worn sofa where his mother used to sit, burying his face in the baby's soft blanket, and wept bitterly into the dark.
