[A few days later] [Alan's house]
Alan sat on the couch in his wrinkled shirt, a stack of unopened bills balanced on his lap. Judith paced the living room like a general barking orders, waving her phone in his face.
"I told you the spa membership is essential, Alan. Essential. You expect me to look this good without professional care? You think this," she gestured at herself dramatically, "just happens naturally?"
Alan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Judith, you already have the platinum package. That's more than most people spend on rent. And last week it was a new yoga retreat, and the week before it was those ridiculous 'healing crystals.' I can't keep feeding money we don't have into your bottomless pit of 'essentials.'"
Judith scoffed, dropping onto the arm of a chair with her arms crossed. "Then make more money. What kind of man can't provide for his wife? Honestly, Alan, sometimes I wonder why I even bothered giving you a second chance."
Alan stood, his hands shaking with frustration. He let out one of his awkward laughs. "Hahaha! You gave me a second chance? I gave you a second chance and let you in when you had nowhere to go. And now, we're right back where we started. Worse, actually."
Her eyes narrowed, sharp as glass. "Worse because you're whining again. Always whining. Do you ever stop?"
Alan's voice cracked. "Do you even hear yourself? You've bled me dry, Judith. Every paycheck, every dime goes to you and your ridiculous lifestyle. And on top of that, I know you're cheating on me. I'm not blind."
Judith tilted her head with a smirk that chilled him. "So what if I am? I'm a woman, Alan. I have needs. Needs you haven't satisfied in years. If you can't fulfill them, someone else will. And frankly, someone else already does."
Alan staggered back like she'd hit him. "Needs? You wouldn't even let me touch you."
Judith leaned back in the chair, utterly unbothered. "Yeah, nothing you can do about it now, can you? You signed the marriage papers again, remember? This time you walked right into the cage with your eyes open. There's nothing you can do now."
Alan's voice shook. "I'll find a way out."
She laughed, cruel and sharp. "And what will you leave with, Alan? The couch cushions? A used toothbrush? Everything else is mine now. If you file for divorce again, I'll squeeze you dry until you're begging in the streets. You know I'll win. And who's going to help you this time? Not Charlie. You burned that bridge already. You've got no one. Think of this as a repayment for all the humiliation you put me through that day. I was helpless, now so are you."
Alan's chest heaved. The room spun. She was right. He had signed, he had believed her empty promises, and in doing so he had cut off the only lifeline he had left. Charlie had washed his hands of him. His brother's words replayed in his head like a curse: You made your bed. Now you get to lie in it.
Alan lowered himself back onto the couch, staring at the bills, at the life he had destroyed with his own weakness. "What more do you want from me?" His voice was hollow, breaking under the weight of regret. "I gave you everything. I gave you another chance when no one else would. And you still found a way to tear it all down."
Judith didn't answer right away. She tapped her nails on the armrest, her smirk intact. "What I want, Alan, is to live the life I deserve. If that means stepping over you to get it, then so be it."
Alan buried his face in his hands. The sound that left his throat was half sob, half bitter laugh. He had axed his own legs and was now left crawling in the wreckage of his choices.
...
[Later that night]
Upstairs, Jake lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The muffled sound of his parents fighting downstairs seeped through the walls. It had been hours of the same back-and-forth accusations.
He clenched his jaw, pulling his blanket over his face. He had heard it all before. His mom screaming about money, and his dad crying about respect. Only this time it was worse. His dad sounded broken, like even he didn't believe his own excuses anymore.
Jake rolled over and stared at the shoebox under his bed. Inside was his secret. His last bit of control. His savings. Every birthday bill he'd hidden. He had kept it hidden from Alan because lately, Alan had started "borrowing." First, it was Jake's video games, then the cash Charlie had given him for his birthday. Alan always said he'd pay him back, but Jake knew better. His father was desperate, and desperation made him dangerous.
The final straw had been the baseball cards. The set of rare cards that Charlie had given him last year, the only thing Jake truly cared about. Alan had sold them without asking, without even a second thought. Jake hadn't even found out until he noticed the empty spot on his shelf.
Jake sat up in anger. He had stayed in this house, hoping things would get better, hoping maybe his parents would figure it out. But it was obvious now. Alan was a fool, Judith was a parasite, and there was no future here. Staying meant suffocating. Leaving meant at least a chance at something else.
He stood, his heart pounding, and grabbed his school bag. He stuffed clothes inside, a toothbrush, his sneakers. He shoved the shoebox with his savings into the bottom of the bag, zipping it up tight. His hands shook, but his resolve didn't falter.
Jake glanced around the room one last time. The posters on the walls, the unmade bed, the empty shelf where his baseball cards used to sit. It all felt hollow now, like a place he had already outgrown.
Downstairs, the voices rose again. Judith's sharp laugh, Alan's pleading. Jake tightened his grip on the bag and whispered to himself, "Anywhere is better than here."
He opened his window quietly. The night air rushed in, cool and freeing. He had already placed a ladder there in the morning. He slowly climbed down.
Jake adjusted the straps on his bag and looked down the street. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't have a plan. But he had his savings, his clothes, and his will to escape. That was enough.
Behind him, the house still echoed with the war that never ended. He didn't look back. He just started walking.
---
[Charlie's house] [11 PM]
Charlie had just tucked Lily in bed after reading her a story about a stubborn little bird who tried to sing louder than the ocean. She was out cold before the last page, her stuffed bunny tucked under her arm. He kissed her forehead, whispered goodnight, and eased the door shut behind him.
He stepped out onto the balcony.
Kate stood there barefoot, her hair loose, leaning against the railing with a glass of wine. Charlie came up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist, and pressed a kiss against her neck.
Kate smiled and tilted her head back into him. "She asleep?"
"Yup," Charlie murmured, smirking against her skin. "Out like a light. Guess my dramatic reading of Goodnight Moon really brought the house down."
Kate chuckled, resting her hands over his. "Who knew you had dad skills hiding under all that sarcasm?"
Charlie grinned. "Don't spread it around. I've got a reputation to protect."
In the living room, Lisa sat with her laptop open, her fingers tapping the keyboard. She was halfway through a draft for her latest blog post, something about balancing work and family without losing your sanity. Every now and then, she glanced up at the balcony, catching Charlie and Kate wrapped together in the night air. She shook her head with a smile, not jealous. Just quietly amused at the man who had once thought commitment meant not leaving a woman's name on a bar napkin.
Charlie nuzzled Kate's neck again, just about to turn her around for a kiss, when his gaze caught movement down on the sand. Someone was standing at the base of the sundeck, half hidden in the shadows, looking up.
A small figure, hunched, carrying a bag.
He squinted, stepping closer to the railing. "What the…?"
The figure looked up with an innocent smile.
"Hey, Uncle Charlie."
Charlie froze. "Jake?!"
---
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