Football System: Touchline God-Chapter 43: The Breaking Point
Chapter 43: The Breaking Point
CLANG!
The fork hit the porcelain plate with a sharp clang that echoed through the dining room. Maddox’s knuckles went white as he gripped the edge of the mahogany table.
"So that’s it?" His voice cut through the morning air like a blade. "I’m supposed to grovel? Hand over my spine so your aunt can hang it on her goddamn trophy wall?"
Alina’s coffee cup trembled in her hands. Steam rose between them like a barrier. "This isn’t about your reputation—"
"It’s always about pride with you people." Maddox’s chair scraped against the marble floor as he pushed back from the table. "Titles. Appearances. Who kneels to who in the goddamn society pages."
The sunlight streaming through the tall windows seemed to dim as tension thickened the air. Birds still sang in the perfectly manicured garden outside, but their cheerful melody felt out of place in the war zone the breakfast room had become.
"You married into this." Alina’s voice was steady, but her hands shook as she set down her cup. "You knew what came with my name."
Maddox shot to his feet so fast his chair nearly toppled backward. His voice rose with each word. "I married you, Alina! Not your father, not Rosana’s little empire of judgment and disdain."
Alina stood too, her silk robe flowing around her like armor. Her control was cracking, hairline fractures showing in her composed facade. "Then stop acting like you’re above everything. You’re not. Not in this world. Not with a sack on your name and a perfume trail on your shirt."
The words hit Maddox deeply. He froze mid-gesture, his mouth opening then closing without sound. The accusation hung in the air between them, heavy and damning.
Silence.
The grandfather clock in the corner ticked away seconds that felt like hours. Alina’s dark eyes glared at him, waiting for denial that wouldn’t come. Her nostrils flared slightly as she studied his face, searching for the truth he was trying to hide.
"You want to be more than some discarded youth team coach with a temper?" Her voice dropped to a whisper that somehow felt more dangerous than shouting. "Then learn to play the game. Or be ready to watch everything pass you by—including me."
Maddox stared at the woman he called his wife. This woman who had once looked at him like he hung the stars. This woman who now looked at him like he was something scraped off her expensive shoes.
The threat in her words settled into his bones like winter cold.
"I need some air," he said, his voice hollow.
"Eric, stop." Alina’s mask slipped for just a moment, showing the desperation underneath. "We’re not done talking."
But he was already moving, his footsteps echoing through the marble hallway. He left behind his half-eaten breakfast, his coffee, and his raging wife. The heavy front door slammed shut behind him with a sound like thunder.
BANG!
Outside, the morning air was crisp and clean. Birds sang their innocent songs in the perfectly manicured trees. The sun painted everything in gold and shadow, making the Marrowgate estate look like something from a fairy tale.
It was a beautiful day today, but Eric Maddox had never felt more trapped in his life.
His hands shook as he fumbled for his phone, ordering a taxi instead of taking Alina’s car. He’d received enough insults for one morning. The automated voice confirmed his pickup in a tone so cheerful it made his teeth ache.
***
Inside the dining room, Alina’s carefully constructed composure finally crumbled. Tears spilled down her cheeks in hot streams, dropping onto the silk of her robe like rain on petals.
The breakfast table looked like a battlefield. Scattered crumbs, overturned napkins, and the lingering scent of Eric’s cologne that deepened her suspicion; he’d been cheating on her for some time now, she could feel it. She just hadn’t found proof of it.
"Oh, sweetheart." Aunt May appeared in the doorway like she’d been there for a while, her soft slippers making no sound on the marble floor.
She carried a fresh pot of tea and the kind of gentle smile that had comforted Alina through a hundred childhood disasters.
"I ruined it." Alina’s voice cracked like breaking glass. "I said terrible things I shouldn’t have."
Aunt May set down the tea service with practiced grace and wrapped her arms around Alina’s trembling shoulders. She smelled like lavender and fresh bread—safe things, comforting things.
"You said what needed saying, dear one."
"No." Alina shook her head violently, red hair flying. "I threatened him. I made him choose between his dignity and our marriage."
"And what choice did he make?"
The question hung in the air like smoke. Through the window, they could see a silver taxi driving away from the estate, carrying Maddox toward whatever freedom he thought he could find.
"He chose his dignity," Alina whispered.
Aunt May’s fingers combed through Alina’s hair with maternal tenderness. "Then perhaps that tells you something about the man you married."
"Or perhaps it tells me something about the woman I’ve become." Alina pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "When did I become someone who threatens the person I love most?"
The older woman’s eyes were sad but understanding. "When you realized that love might not be enough to save him."
***
The taxi hummed through the morning air. Eric stared out the windows at the city spreading below—a maze of glass and steel that had once seemed full of possibility. Now it looked like a prison with invisible bars.
His phone buzzed, a text from Elira. He sighed, clearing his thoughts before reading it: [Eric, you forgot your watch here in a hurry. Should I mail it back?]
Eric’s let loose a wry smile. He thought that he’d been so careful, so thorough in covering his tracks. But a watch, such a small thing could unravel everything.
Thinking back to the conversation earlier, he realized that Alina had probably concluded that he was with a woman the night before. ’This’ll spell trouble’
[Keep it safe. I’ll get it later]
============
============
Please remember to vote with your power stones and golden tickets for the WSA 2025. Thank you.
Follow curr𝒆nt nov𝒆ls on freew(𝒆)bnov𝒆l.(c)om