Chapter 6 - Victor Wanders Through His Empty Penthouse Alone
By 8:00 PM that evening, the sun had set over the city of Washington D.C., casting long shadows across the empty streets.
Victor unlocked the door to his luxurious downtown penthouse—the four-million-dollar property he had insisted on keeping in the divorce settlement.
He walked inside, the sound of his dress shoes echoing loudly against the wide hardwood floorboards.
The apartment was silent, dark, and utterly cold.
There were no toys scattered across the living room rug.
There was no sound of Charlotte laughing in the kitchen, or Abigail practicing her violin in her bedroom.
There was no warm dinner waiting on the stove, and no wife sitting on the sofa reading a book under the lamp.
For twelve years, I had turned that cold glass-and-concrete space into a warm, inviting home for him and our daughters.
I had filled the shelves with books, hung family photos on the walls, and kept the pantry stocked with everything his family liked.
When I left that morning, I hadn't just taken my personal clothes; I had taken every trace of warmth and love out of the building.
The walls were bare where our wedding portrait used to hang.
The display shelves were empty where the girls' hand-painted school pottery had once sat proudly.
Victor walked into the master kitchen, opening the stainless-steel refrigerator to find nothing inside except a bottle of water and a tub of butter.
He poured himself a glass of straight scotch, his hand shaking so badly that the crystal bottle clinked against the glass.
His phone buzzed on the granite counter—a text from Naomi.
“Victor, please come back to my apartment. I’m scared. I love you so much. It’s your baby, I promise.”
Victor stared at the screen with cold, bloodshot eyes, a bitter laugh escaping his throat.
He didn't reply.
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He walked into Charlotte’s old bedroom, sitting down on the edge of her empty mattress in the dark.
He finally realized what he had done—he had traded two loving daughters who adored him for a woman who couldn't even prove whose baby she was carrying.
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