The Bride Widow
Chapter 145: Ch 145: The one to care about - Part 2

Chapter 145: Ch 145: The one to care about - Part 2

Daniel sat at the dining table, his fork absentmindedly poking at the food on his plate. Across from him, James was uncharacteristically quiet, his small face scrunched up in thought as he picked at his dinner. The air between them was heavy, a tension that neither seemed able to break.

Finally, James spoke, his voice cautious. "Dad?"

Daniel glanced up, startled out of his thoughts. "Yeah, James?"

James hesitated, twirling a piece of spaghetti on his fork. "Are you and Anabella getting a divorce?"

The question hit Daniel like a punch to the gut. He froze, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an answer that would be both honest and gentle. But the look on James’s face told him that the boy deserved the truth.

"Yeah," Daniel said after a long pause, his voice quieter than he intended. "We are."

James’s fork clattered against his plate as he set it down. "Why?"

Daniel sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Sometimes... things don’t work out the way we hope. And this is one of those times. It’s not because of you, James. It’s just something between me and Anabella."

"But if she’s gone... does that mean Mom will come back?" James’s voice was tinged with hope, his wide eyes searching Daniel’s face for reassurance.

Daniel hesitated, the weight of the question pressing down on him. He opened his mouth to speak but found that he couldn’t form the words. His silence said more than any answer could.

James’s hopeful expression crumbled, and he looked down at his plate, his small shoulders slumping. "I thought so."

"James—"

"It’s fine, Dad," James said quickly, cutting him off. "I get it. You don’t have to explain."

The rest of the meal passed in silence, the sound of utensils scraping against plates the only noise in the room.

______

Later that evening, as Daniel was cleaning up the kitchen, a knock at the door interrupted him. He frowned, setting down the dish towel and heading to the door.

Standing on the other side was his mother, her sharp eyes assessing him with their usual air of disapproval. Behind her, Lola stood with her head down, looking every bit the pitiful omega she wanted to portray.

Daniel’s stomach sank. "What are you doing here?" he asked, directing the question at his mother.

"We need to talk," she said briskly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. Lola followed meekly, her hands clasped in front of her.

Daniel’s instincts flared to life as he caught Lola’s scent. It was soothing, almost intoxicating, and despite his irritation, he felt himself softening toward her.

"Daniel," his mother said sharply, drawing his attention back to her. "You’ve been avoiding your responsibilities for too long. It’s time you stepped up and took care of things."

"I don’t need you telling me how to live my life," Daniel snapped, though his voice lacked its usual bite.

"Clearly, you do," his mother countered. "Look at this mess. Your marriage is falling apart, your business is crumbling, and you’re still clinging to some misguided hope that Sharon will come back."

At the mention of Sharon, Daniel stiffened.

His mother noticed and smirked. "She’s not coming back, Daniel. You need to accept that and focus on the future. And that future includes Lola."

Lola looked up at him then, her wide eyes brimming with tears. "I don’t want to cause any trouble," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I just... I don’t know what to do. I didn’t ask for any of this."

Daniel felt his resolve weakening. Despite everything, his instincts screamed at him to comfort her, to protect her. Before he realized what he was doing, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her.

Lola let out a small, surprised gasp before leaning into him, her hands clutching the back of his shirt.

The sound of a sharp intake of breath made Daniel freeze. He turned his head slowly, his heart sinking as he saw Sharon standing in the doorway, her face a mixture of shock and anger.

"Sharon," he said, pulling away from Lola.

"Don’t," Sharon snapped, holding up a hand. "I don’t want to hear it."

Daniel stepped toward her, but she took a step back, her eyes narrowing. "I came here to talk things out, to see if there was anything left to salvage. But clearly, I was wasting my time."

"It’s not what it looks like," Daniel said quickly, though the words sounded hollow even to him.

Sharon let out a bitter laugh. "It’s exactly what it looks like. And you know what? I’m done, Daniel. For real this time."

Before he could respond, she turned on her heel and walked away, slamming the door behind her.

Daniel stood there, stunned, his arms hanging limply at his sides.

"You see?" his mother said, her tone smug. "She was never going to come back. Now you can focus on what really matters."

Daniel turned to her, his jaw tightening. "Get out," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

His mother raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he said, his gaze darkening. "Take Lola and leave. Now."

His mother hesitated for a moment, clearly surprised by his tone, but she quickly recovered. "Fine," she said coldly, grabbing Lola’s arm and dragging her toward the door.

As the door closed behind them, Daniel sank into a chair, his head in his hands. His life was spiraling out of control, and he had no idea how to stop it.

Daniel sprinted out the door, the echo of Sharon’s words ringing in his ears. His pulse raced as he caught sight of her down the block, her heels clicking against the pavement with a sharpness that matched her mood.

"Sharon!" he called, his voice hoarse with desperation. He needed to catch her before she could leave him for real.

She didn’t stop. If anything, her pace quickened. Daniel pushed himself harder, his long strides closing the distance until he was close enough to reach for her arm.