Arthur Vance’s face contorted with a mixture of shame and defensive malice. Her ice-cold dismissal was the final blow to his ego. "Sarah, look at yourself!" he spat, his voice trembling with a self-serving rage. "We reached this point because you pushed us here. This is on you. Don't blame anyone else for your own coldness."
With that final, cowardly revision of their history, Arthur turned on his heel and stormed out.
The moment the bedroom door clicked shut, the silence didn't last three seconds. From behind the heavy mahogany, a guttural, primal scream tore through the air—a sound so raw it felt like the house itself was bleeding. Then came the crash. One after another, heavy objects met the floor with violent finality.
Arthur paused in the hallway, his hand tightening on his car key
