2 views
Love, Divorce and Everything else
**Chapter 36: "Cracks in the Foundation"**
The tension in the car was suffocating as Myra, Ryan, and Emma made their silent journey to Myra’s parents' house. Emma sat rigid in the back seat, her tiny hands gripping her favorite toy as though it were her only lifeline. Her gaze stayed fixed on the passing scenery outside, her reflection in the glass a mix of defiance and sadness. Myra’s heart ached at the sight, and she turned back to check on her daughter, her own worry etched deeply across her face.
Ryan, sensing her pain, gently placed a hand on hers. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice steady and reassuring. “It will all be okay.”
Myra nodded, though doubt loomed large in her mind. Ryan turned his attention to Emma, his tone light as he attempted to bridge the growing chasm. “Hey, Emma,” he said gently, “would you like to stop for ice cream before we go to your grandparents’? We could make a little detour.”
There was no response. Emma didn’t so much as glance in his direction. Ryan tried again, his voice patient. “What do you think, Emma? Maybe we could get your favorite flavor.”
Emma remained resolutely silent, her gaze unwaveringly fixed on the window. Myra, her patience beginning to thin under the weight of heartbreak, turned in her seat and said softly, “Emma? It’s not polite to ignore someone when they’re talking to you.”
Still, there was no reaction. Myra’s voice grew firmer, more assertive. “Emma, I asked you a question.”
Finally, Emma snapped, her tone sharp and biting. “No! I don’t want anything! Just drop me at the house, and you two can leave me there. That’s what you want, right?”
The words were like a dagger to Myra’s chest. She turned away quickly, a tear slipping down her cheek. Ryan’s grip on her hand tightened, his own face a mask of concern....
The tension in the car was suffocating as Myra, Ryan, and Emma made their silent journey to Myra’s parents' house. Emma sat rigid in the back seat, her tiny hands gripping her favorite toy as though it were her only lifeline. Her gaze stayed fixed on the passing scenery outside, her reflection in the glass a mix of defiance and sadness. Myra’s heart ached at the sight, and she turned back to check on her daughter, her own worry etched deeply across her face.
Ryan, sensing her pain, gently placed a hand on hers. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice steady and reassuring. “It will all be okay.”
Myra nodded, though doubt loomed large in her mind. Ryan turned his attention to Emma, his tone light as he attempted to bridge the growing chasm. “Hey, Emma,” he said gently, “would you like to stop for ice cream before we go to your grandparents’? We could make a little detour.”
There was no response. Emma didn’t so much as glance in his direction. Ryan tried again, his voice patient. “What do you think, Emma? Maybe we could get your favorite flavor.”
Emma remained resolutely silent, her gaze unwaveringly fixed on the window. Myra, her patience beginning to thin under the weight of heartbreak, turned in her seat and said softly, “Emma? It’s not polite to ignore someone when they’re talking to you.”
Still, there was no reaction. Myra’s voice grew firmer, more assertive. “Emma, I asked you a question.”
Finally, Emma snapped, her tone sharp and biting. “No! I don’t want anything! Just drop me at the house, and you two can leave me there. That’s what you want, right?”
The words were like a dagger to Myra’s chest. She turned away quickly, a tear slipping down her cheek. Ryan’s grip on her hand tightened, his own face a mask of concern....
