Chapter 5 - Shattered Glass and Cruelty
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I watched the screen in absolute, paralyzing horror. The temperature inside my parked car felt as though it had dropped below zero.
"Look at you," Eleanor mocked, standing tall over my bleeding, broken wife. She lifted her designer shoe and deliberately stomped on a cluster of the pain pills, crushing them into fine white powder amidst the glass shards. "Look at the mess you've made in my son's beautiful home. You are a burden to him, Clara. You have been a burden since the day he married you."
"I love Julian... I love my son..." Clara sobbed, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
"If you loved them, you would have recovered by now," Eleanor replied, her voice cold and sharp as a razor blade. She bounced little Leo dismissively, completely ignoring his frantic cries for nourishment. "Leo is crying because his mother is weak and completely incompetent. Get down on your hands and knees and clean up this glass. Only then will I let you hold him."
"Eleanor, I can't bend down like that... the doctor said my incision will tear—"
"Then I guess Leo stays with me all day," Eleanor interrupted coldly. "Clean. The. Glass. Hands and knees, Clara. Show me you're worth something."
My rage was an physical entity, punching through my chest, blinding my vision with hot red static. The animal instinct inside me wanted to slam my foot on the accelerator, crash my truck straight through the front garage doors, and wrap my hands around my mother's throat.
But I forced my eyes closed. I took one long, slow, agonizing breath.
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If I stormed in like a raving lunatic, Eleanor would instantly switch back into the helpless, innocent victim. She would claim Clara lost her mind, that I was suffering from a mental breakdown, and she would drag us into a chaotic, messy family war while my wife was still bleeding.
I didn't need a fight. I needed an execution.
