Troubled Marriage
Episode 4
Frank’s shock quickly turned to anger as he stood over Emily’s unconscious form, his heart p******g in his chest. The sight of her sprawled out on the floor, completely oblivious to the world, filled him with a mixture of rage and despair. How could she let things get this bad? How could she abandon their child like this? He couldn’t stay silent anymore.
“Emily!” Frank shouted, his voice trembling with fury as he shook her harder. “Wake up! How could you do this? Our son was crying, and you were just lying here drunk! What the hell is wrong with you?”
Emily’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze unfocused as she tried to sit up. When she finally registered Frank’s words, her face twisted into a sneer. “Oh, get off my back, Frank,” she slurred, pushing him away weakly. “I’m sick of your lectures. You’re not my father, and I don’t need you telling me what to do.”
Frank’s jaw tightened, his frustration boiling over. “I’m not trying to control you, Emily, but this isn’t just about you anymore! We have a child, a responsibility! You can’t just ignore that!”
Emily laughed bitterly, struggling to her feet. “Responsibility? That’s rich coming from you. You think you’re so perfect, don’t you? Playing the martyr, taking care of the baby while I’m the bad guy. Well, guess what, Frank? I never wanted this! I never wanted any of this!”
Frank recoiled, the weight of her words hitting him like a physical blow. “What are you saying? You didn’t want our son? You didn’t want this life?”
Emily’s eyes flashed with anger as she swayed unsteadily. “No, Frank, I didn’t! You pushed for this—marriage, a baby, the whole picture-perfect life! But it’s not what I wanted! I’m done pretending, I’m done with you!”
Without another word, Emily stormed out of the living room and into the bedroom. Frank stood frozen, his mind racing as he heard the sound of drawers being yanked open, clothes being hastily thrown into a suitcase. Panic began to set in as he realized what she was doing.
“Emily, wait!” Frank called, rushing to the bedroom doorway. “What are you doing? You can’t just leave!”
Emily didn’t even look at him as she stuffed the last of her belongings into the suitcase. “Watch me,” she muttered, zipping it up with finality. She turned to leave, her eyes cold and distant. “I’m done with this. I’m done with you.”
Frank stepped in front of her, desperation in his voice. “Please, Emily, don’t do this. We can fix this. We can get help, figure out what’s wrong, but don’t just walk away!”
Emily shoved past him, her face set in a grim expression. “There’s nothing to fix, Frank. This was a mistake from the beginning. I’m leaving, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
Frank’s heart pounded as he watched her grab her suitcase and head for the door. “Emily, what about our son? What about our family? You can’t just abandon us!”
She paused at the door, her hand on the doorknob, and for a moment, Frank thought she might turn around. But when she spoke, her voice was cold and final. “You’re the one who wanted this family, Frank. Now you can have it. I’m done.”
With that, she opened the door and walked out, leaving Frank standing there, stunned and heartbroken. He tried to follow her, to plead with her one last time, but she didn’t look back. As the door closed behind her, the finality of it all hit Frank like a tidal wave.
He stood in the empty apartment, the echoes of her footsteps fading down the hall, and felt the crushing weight of what had just happened. Emily was gone, leaving him alone with their son, with no explanation, no closure—just a void where his family had once been.
The silence that followed Emily’s departure was deafening. Frank stood in the middle of the empty apartment, his mind racing as he tried to process what had just happened. Emily was gone—really gone—and he was left alone to take care of their son. The weight of it all hit him hard, and his first instinct was to call his mother. But he hesitated, already knowing what she would say.
“Focus on your studies, Frank. I told you marriage was a distraction,” she’d probably say, her voice tinged with that familiar mix of concern and disappointment. Frank couldn’t bear to hear those words, not now, not after everything had fallen apart. He needed to figure this out on his own.
The next few days were a blur of sleepless nights and endless diaper changes. Frank quickly realized just how unprepared he was to be a single father. His son’s needs were constant and demanding, leaving Frank with little time to eat, let alone study. He tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy, but it was impossible to juggle everything by himself.
One morning, in a desperate attempt to keep up with his classes, Frank decided to take the baby with him to his lectures. He packed a diaper bag, strapped his son into a carrier, and hoped for the best. But as soon as the lecture began, the baby started to fuss, his cries growing louder and more insistent with each passing minute.
“Shh, please,” Frank whispered, bouncing him gently in his arms, but it was no use. The crying only intensified, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Frank could feel the stares of his classmates and the disapproving glances from his professor.
“Mr. Daniel,” the professor finally said, his voice stern but not unkind, “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave. We can’t conduct the lecture like this.”
Frank felt his face flush with embarrassment as he gathered his things and hurried out of the room. The baby’s cries echoed in the hallway, a painful reminder of how far his life had spiraled out of control. He slumped onto a bench outside, cradling his son and feeling utterly defeated.
“I’m sorry, little guy,” Frank murmured, his voice choked with emotion. “I’m trying, I really am. I just… I don’t know what to do.”
That night, after another exhausting day, Frank realized he couldn’t do it alone. He needed help, someone who could care for the baby while he focused on his studies. Reluctantly, he reached out to a nanny service, hoping to find someone who could take on the responsibility that had overwhelmed him.
A few days later, the nanny arrived. Her name was Claire, a soft-spoken woman with warm eyes and a gentle demeanor. From the moment she stepped into the apartment, Frank felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Claire had a natural way with the baby, soothing him with ease and taking charge of his care in a way that Frank hadn’t been able to.
“Thank you so much for coming on such short notice,” Frank said, relief evident in his voice. “I was really struggling on my own.”
Claire smiled kindly. “It’s no trouble at all, Mr. Daniels. I’m happy to help. Your son is a sweetheart; he just needs a little extra attention.”
Over the next few weeks, Claire became a fixture in Frank’s life. She arrived early in the morning, taking care of the baby while Frank attended his classes, and stayed late into the evening to help with bedtime. Her presence brought a sense of stability to Frank’s chaotic world, and he quickly grew to rely on her more than he had anticipated.
As the days passed, Frank found himself falling deeply for his nanny Claire. The connection kept growing until one evening, when the door of the house swung open.
To Continue
Jerry Smith
