Chapter 3 - The Pieces on the Floor
Eleanor’s eyes darted nervously, the defiance draining from her face as she realized the absolute danger she was in. Ryan’s grip on her jaw was like a vice, communicating an unwavering promise of further violence if she didn't speak.
"I... I was trying to help," she stammered, her voice shaking. "She was having an episode, Ryan. She wouldn't take her medication. I had to force her..."
"By hitting her?" Ryan snarled, shoving Eleanor away in disgust. He stood up, towering over her. "You haven't been in our lives for two years, and you show up unannounced to assault my wife? Get out. If I ever see you near my family again, I will call the police."
Eleanor scrambled to her feet, her pride shattered. She grabbed her purse from the counter and practically ran out the front door, disappearing into the rainy afternoon.
As the front door slammed shut, the ferocious energy drained from Ryan’s body, leaving him trembling. He immediately dropped to his knees, ignoring the scattered orange pills, and wrapped his arms around Sarah and Leo.
"I've got you," he whispered, burying his face in Sarah’s hair. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here. I'm so sorry."
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Sarah sobbed against his chest, her hands clinging to his white sleeveless shirt. "She just showed up, Ryan. She started saying I wasn't fit to raise Leo... that I was crazy. She grabbed the pills..."
"Shh," Ryan said gently, kissing the top of her head while rubbing Leo's back to soothe the toddler's cries. He looked at the ugly bruise on his wife's face, his heart aching with guilt and sorrow. He had crossed a line today by striking his mother, a violent act he would have to reckon with later. But as he held his broken family on the kitchen floor, he knew that the hardest part of their journey—healing from the wounds of the past—was only just beginning.
