Burn (Barlyle) (COMPLETE)

41

"You can't do that!"

"I can, and I will."

"But your parents—"

"—are perfectly capable of watching their own grandchildren."

Barnum ground his teeth together and paced across the floor of his study. Charity stood poised, hands clasped in front of her and head held high, watching as her husband brought his hands up to his hair.

"I just got them back, Charity," he groaned. "You just came back and we just got the house back. Don't ruin it over some little—"

"Little what, Barnum? You think protestors swarming our home is a little manner? Me, having to hide in a room with the girls because your lover's," she spat the word, venom on her tongue, "parents barged in here with no regard for the people living in this home?"

"I handled that. It's under control."

Charity took a deep breath and straightened her back. She lifted her chin at her husband. "Caroline tells me you had a breakdown."

Barnum froze.

Completely. Froze.

His eyes flicked to his wife, but he himself did not move. "She what?"

"That little stunt you pulled in the hallway upstairs? Breaking down in front of our daughter? Making her little mind believe you were going to die?"

Tears formed in Charity's eyes.

"If you can't even handle yourself, Phineas, how can I expect you to handle the children?"

Barnum said nothing. His hands twitched in front of him.

"Father is old-fashioned, as we both know, and has not installed a telephone in his home. Therefore, I'll be leaving to speak with them about the arrangements this evening."

"Don't do this," Barnum murmured. "Please - don't take my girls away from me again."

He couldn't look at her.

"If everything goes as planned, they should be here to pick up the girls in the morning. Perhaps then we can speak to one another as civilized adults."

Charity turned to leave.

"Char," Barnum croaked.

She turned around. The ringmaster's eyes lit with hope - but the light quickly diminished as his wife spoke one final, damning sentence.

"I want him gone before I return."