An hour after the confrontation with Clayton, his furious wife stormed in, her voice ringing through the air as she unleashed her wrath on him. At first, the spectacle was almost amusing, but as the night stretched on, I found my thoughts drifting back to Clayton himself.
He’d been watching us all along, lurking just outside our moments of peace—waiting, anticipating my failure. The Monster’s child, the son of a man who had left nothing but ruin in his wake. I could see it now, the way Clayton had been poised for an excuse, any excuse, to prove that I was no better than the one who fathered me. If I so much as faltered with his daughter, he was ready. Ready to punish me one brutal swing at a time.
It was Dad who finally shattered his baseless accusations, cutting through the man’s heresy
