Page 98 of Redeeming Melodies

I knew these streets, remembered how to weave through Manhattan traffic like it was just another qualification lap. Each turn brought me closer to the building I used to call home, where my son spent his days surrounded by Vanessa's perfect fucking facade.

The doorman's eyes went wide when he saw me. "Mr. Blue"

"Save it, Carlos." Pushed past him, heart hammering against my ribs. "She up there?"

"Sir, I should call up"

"Don't bother."

The elevator ride felt endless. Twenty floors of memories - bringing Tommy home from the hospital, carrying Vanessa across the threshold after our wedding, all those moments when we thought we were building something real instead of just prettier lies.

Her door looked exactly the same. Polished brass numbers mocking me with their permanence. Knocked harder than necessary, adrenaline making my hands shake.

When she opened the door, everything stopped. Because there was Tommy on the floor with his trucks - the ones we used to play with together before racing took over my life. And there was Anderson, sprawled on my couch like he belonged there, like he hadn't been fucking my wife behind my back.

"Dad!" Tommy's voice cut through the red haze filling my vision. His body slammed into mine, small arms wrapping tight around my waist. "I knew you'd come! Did you bring Sheriff Jake? Can we"

"Tommy." Vanessa's voice cracked like a whip. "Jessica, take him for his walk now."

The nanny appeared from nowhere, gathering Tommy with practiced efficiency. His protests broke my heart, but this wasn't a conversation for kid's ears.

The door clicked shut behind them. The sound echoed like a starting gun.

"Well." Anderson stood, all fake casual confidence. "This is unexpected."

"Really?" Let ice fill my voice. "Didn't think I'd find out you've been playing daddy with my family? How long, Jason? Since before the divorce, or did you wait till the ink was dry?"

His face twisted. "You've got some nerve"

"No, you've got nerve." Stepped closer, letting rage fuel me. "Sitting in my house, on my couch, trying to replace me in my son's life."

"Your son?" Vanessa's laugh cut sharp. "The one you abandoned for racing? For your small-town fantasy?"

"Don't." The word came out dangerous. "Don't you dare twist this. Not when you're the one who turned our marriage into a fucking performance."

Anderson moved fast but I moved faster. His fist caught my lip but the counter came natural - years of gym training paying off as I sent him stumbling back.

"Get out." Kept my voice low, steady. Deadly. "Get the fuck out before I forget we're civilized people."

He went, dignity in tatters. Good. Let him feel a fraction of what I felt finding him here.

"That was assault." Vanessa's hands shook as she poured herself wine. Always with the fucking wine. "I could have you arrested."

"For what? Defending myself when your boy toy took a swing?" Wiped blood from my lip, the sting grounding me. "Try it. See how that plays in court."

"Why are you really here, Elliot?" Her mask cracked slightly, showing something that might have been pain. "To stake your claim? Show off your new life?"

"I'm here because our son deserves better than your games." The truth burned coming out. "Better than being a prop in your society act or a weapon in your revenge plot."

"Revenge?" She whirled on me, wine sloshing. "You think this is about revenge? You left us, Elliot. Left me to handle everything while you chased checkered flags and sponsor deals."

"And you loved every minute of it." The words hit home, made her flinch. "The fame, the money, the perfect racing wife image. Until it wasn't enough anymore."

"Nothing was ever enough for you." Her voice cracked. "Not the wins, not the acclaim, not me."

"That's not" Stopped, really looked at her. At the woman I'd once loved enough to promise forever to. "What happened to us, Van? We used to be good together."

"Fame happened. Money happened." She sank onto the couch, suddenly looking tired. "We happened, Elliot. Both of us so caught up in the performance we forgot how to be real."

---