The argument had begun not long after you’d arrived at your old home, dozens of stories in the air within the storied walls of the Empire State Building.

You’re grateful for the age of the building, for not only is the art deco style still something to behold even now, but the walls that separate your apartment from your neighbours - they’re thick and do an excellent job in soundproofing.

You’re facing out of one of the windows overlooking the Big Apple, hands in your back pockets so as not to cross your arms over your chest as you’d be wont to do… that would appear defensive in nature.

That would likely trigger your wife yet further.

Later on, you’d think that you being mindful in this way made little difference, perhaps even had the opposite effect.

”Will you look around and pay attention?!”

”I’m listening mein schatz!”

It’s said before you register it… though you pick up on the intake of breath that it causes and the spark in her eyes from her reflection in the window.

”Are you?”

Silence from you is the correct response.

Eyes still boring into you, as if daring you to speak up, Vanessa carries on, relaying the conversation she’d had with Wisdom the previous night.

”I told her ‘no’. I told her that we love them, but we’ve got a family now.”

This is emphasised by her gesticulating in the direction of the spare room where Kai is asleep.

“I said our son is barely a few weeks old! We’re not in our twenties anymore and I said we can’t go through this bullshit!”

Her finger prods you in the centre of your chest.

”You can’t go through with this bullshit!”

Her finger is retracted, before being jabbed into her own sternum.

”I can’t go through this bullshit!”

You both stare at one another for a few moments that tick by like an eternity.

”I can’t bear the thought Hans of Kai growing up with out either of us being there for him.

That was like a gutshot to you so much that you have to swallow twice before being able to force out your next words.

”You don’t think I’d want that for him… for us?”

The volume that comes from you is low, causing Vanessa to mirror you, a slight slump rounding her shoulders for good measure.

”No… of course not…”

Her hand is placed on your chest this time, palm out.

”I am serious though Hans. I want you to quit.”

”I’m not going to Vanessa.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, nostrils flaring out wide before two loud gasps escape her, much as she tries to clamp down on any emotion being released.

”Why?”

”Because of Kai.”

The palm on your chest is balled into a fist and pushed into you, causing you to take a step back.

She repeats her question, fury coating it as it’s practically spat at you.

”Why!?”

”Because of Kai.”

Her fist pushes into you again, causing you to take another step back.

”Why!?”

Your words tumble out through clenched teeth.

”Because I do not want to run anymore Van! Because I do not want our son to see us run from something. I do not want to see our son see me break a promise I made to you.

You grasp her fist in your hands, cradling it.

”This place brought us together. For all the ills it has brought, nothing can come close to that mein schatz. I will make it safe for you to com…”

”I’m not ever going back Hans, you know this.”

Another swallow before you force the words out.

”Doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying.”

”You’re so f*cking boneheaded at times!”

”Ich weiß.”

You say it so flatly, so non defensively that she is caught out, giving you space to follow up.

”I ran when I realised just what I’d done to Matthew… I ran the next time for us to be away from him. But now… I am done running.“

”Oh stop being such a martyr! What if something happens to you? We have a child, what am I supposed to do?”

”Nothing will happen!”

”You got hit in the head Hans! You work with people who cut off ears, who try to rape one another… d’yknow honey, that b*tch setting my hair on fire maybe did me a favour…”

Vanessa’s in full flow now, it’s almost like what you saw in Erica’s eyes that time she’d flung you away from that battered car she was driving.

You continue to cradle her balled up fist, though perhaps a little tighter now than you did at first.

”... because it gave me perspective. I got out and I looked back, and saw being outside of the mad house was waaaaaay better than being inside the madhouse. Why. Don’t. You. Get. It?

She’s pushing into you again, emotions flaring.

You hate to say what you’re going to say, but it has to be now.

”Speaking of Erica.”

The argument continues long into the night.

You reconcile multiple times, for fractions of a second to minutes at a time.

Emotionally you both go through the wringer. As if it’s not something that you’re both accustomed to by now. That point would in fact be remarked upon by Vanessa in one of the lulls, shortly before you ruin it by trying to pick up on a point you’d been trying to make half an hour earlier.

Boneheaded, as you’d been called. She’s not wrong.

You sleep on the sofa, with that thought being your last before oblivion takes you.

It’s a restless sleep.

You blame the couch, though deep down you know you’d have slept just as poorly in your own bed.

Not bothering with a shower first thing, you throw on some clothes and exit the apartment.

You’ve trod these streets a thousand times and you’re sure you’ll do so again. As it is, you’re on autopilot for the journey both ways. It’s only as you open the door to the hallway that you catch a glimpse of yourself, seeing the weathered jeans, brown leather jacket and cap that you threw on.

’I look like sh*t.’

Exhaling at that thought, you move inside the apartment once you’ve extricated yourself from your shoes. Picking up the two large polystyrene cups marked with the logo of Grace Street Coffee and placing them on top of one another, you carry on through the apartment.

The lounge in front of you is bathed in light from the full length windows revealing the sight of New York City lighting up the chic and modern interior, leather couches and chairs, bookshelves filled with mementos and cloth bound volumes as well as several photo frames.

Those blinds weren’t up when you’d left.

Standing in front of one of the framed pictures is your wife.

She looks equally as exhausted as you are.

She’s looking at the idyllic snap of a couple taken as you both walk hand in hand out of the church on your wedding day, sun shining as flowers tossed up in the air fall around them, smiling faces surrounding yours.

Vanessa turns to you, smiling weakly.

You take a step forward.

”Es tut mir leid, meine liebe…”

You stand a few paces apart.

”I hate it when we argue.”

”Me too.”

Another few seconds of silence.

You raise up the cups of coffee as if it’s a peace offering.

Her eyes close, as she shakes her head slowly, before gesturing at you to put them down.

Embracing one another, you drink in the smell of her hair, feeling the softness of her skin under the touch of your finger tips.

You both stand like this for an age.

”Kai?”

”Asleep. He woke up after you’d left, but… he was hungry, and then he zonked out.”

”I’m envious of him, being able to sleep like that… jah… “

A low rumble of a chuckle sounds in your chest.

”Did you sleep?”

”No. You?”

”Nein.”

With a low sigh, Vanessa releases you, holding you out at arms length, hands grasping your flanks.

You meet her gaze.

”Do you have to do this?”

None of the tone from last night and earlier this morning was there.

And neither is it in your voice when you go to respond either.

”Jah, I do.”

”You can’t just stay home and pitch balls at him?”

”Nein… besides… you know your vater would want that job anyway.”

She smiles at that.

It lasts a few seconds before that dark expression threatens to return in full force.

”And her?”

”You gave me a chance mein schatz. If she truly was under some influence or not, doesn’t she warrant a second chance?”

”And what if she throws it back in your face?

”Then I tried. I was the bigger person.”

You shrug slowly.

It is something that you’re aware would likely happen. But you need to be the role model for someone now.

”Knowing when to open the clenched fist ist as important as knowing when to clench the open palm.”

”I’m not going to lie…”

She sighs.

”I hope she says no.”

Later that morning, you’re sitting at your phone, having unblocked the number.

You’re tapping away, trying to put into words an olive branch towards someone that had put you through hell.

It would be difficult at the best of times, nevermind after everything that’s gone on the last few days.

If you’re reading then, I’m not writing to create wounds, but to heal.

Yes, I saw you lying in the ambulance. I had to see for myself, see what had happened and see what a waste it was. I wasn’t gloating. I was sad for your mother, your family and even for you. Even for you after the hell you’ve put my own family through.

I guess we’re two broken people at the end of the day Erica.

I’m not giving up though. I don’t want you to either. Who you are right now, I know you’re able to be better than that. Your mutti knows that. Your brother knows that.

Tag with me at Havoc. No tricks. No games.

You can only feed off the hate for so long. Believe me, I’ve been there.

You put down the phone, having just hit the send icon, before slumping back into the sofa as the scene fades to black.