A baby. They were finally going to have a baby. Those words played over and over in his mind like a locked groove on a vinyl record, each repetition a tender reminder of hope and possibility. The news was amazing; fantastic, even; a bright light in the midst of years filled with uncertainty and heartache.
They had endured endless months of testing, each result a cruel tease that crushed their fragile hopes and made their dreams seem as distant as a ship drifting away into the night. Every failed test, every moment of despair, had built up to this singular, transformative instant. It was as though their longing had been suspended in time, a dream that was slowly fading away, until now. And he was stuck in a gilded prison, around his mother in law’s neck.
Never to enjoy the news.
Never to be allowed to hug Donna and celebrate with her. He had removed himself, of his own accord, from the human condition, at the worst possible time.
"Goddamn it. Baby… baby, I’m here. Donna, Donna, please!" Dan screamed, his voice raw, desperation choking his every word. He smacked his sore fists against the rose gold colored glass, hip-checking it relentlessly, over and over, until his sides ached and bruised. His body screamed with exhaustion, but still, he didn’t stop. His face was flushed, burning from the intensity, and his head throbbed from the force of his cries. His hands ached from pounding, but the pain was nothing compared to the suffocating regret building in his chest.
All he wanted; no, needed, was to break free. To reach Donna, to tell her that he was here. To undo the damage he’d done. If only he had waited. If only he had thought it through, just for a moment longer. The weight of his rash decisions crushed him, a tidal wave of regret crashing over him. If only I had waited, he thought, over and over. If only I had been patient…
Now it was too late, now he was behind a crystal wall, stuck watching the world from the outside. He was removed from it all, a mere object in the possession of his mother in law Francine Delmont. He screamed for her until his voice failed, then watched the subtle movements of the dark inside of Francine’s blouse as she went about with the rest of her conversation. Dan could still hear Donna, and Gracie, and Sarah as they comforted Donna, his Donna, but their voices were more like a distant muffled murmur compared to Francine.
He listened, helpless, as they systematically convinced Donna to get rid of his things. His sports memorabilia; the items that had once symbolized his identity and passion. His favorite chair, the worn spot where he would sit after long days, seeking comfort in its familiar embrace. His collection of well-worn tee shirts; each one carrying memories of carefree weekends spent together. Even the pictures, the ones that had captured their life, their love, the foundation of what they had built together. Francine would make sure every reminder Donna had of him was systematically removed, all under the promise and elation of “a new baby” After all, Donna wasn’t just responsible for herself anymore, she had a baby to consider.
Francine was truly ruthless.
Donna offered little resistance. She was quiet, as if each decision, each item that would leave their home, was another piece of her heart being torn away. She wanted to believe Dan was a good man, that he had truly loved her. She wanted to hold onto the idea that their life together had meaning. But how could she? How could she reconcile that love with the selfish, irresponsible choices he had made? How could she continue to stand by someone who, in her eyes, had lost the very essence of what it meant to be her partner?
Dan’s heart sank as he realized the truth. Donna needed more than just love; she needed a provider, someone who could offer stability, security. Someone who could take care of her, not a bug to be kept in a jar. He had failed her. Not just in his actions, but in his role as her partner. How could she trust him now? How could he ever be the man she needed, when he had become so small, so insignificant?
The weight of his regret pressed down on him as the sound of Donna’s voice wavered, her decisions final, the pieces of their life slipping further away.
Dan wanted to hold onto the hope that Donna wouldn’t abandon him, that she would go to the ends of the earth and back to find him, but even if she did, even if by some miracle Francine faltered even for a moment and released her thumb from atop him, Donna would then realize the truth. None of this was an accident, he chose this. How could she ever forgive him for that?
The slow trudging sands of time crawled onward, each passing moment dragging him further into an abyss of hopelessness. The voices around him grew fainter, distant echoes from a life he could no longer touch. Only the relentless pounding of Francine’s heartbeat reverberated through her chest behind him, a constant, unnerving presence. Her voice, deep and commanding, would haunt him endlessly—he could already feel it etching its way into his very soul, a sound he’d hear far too often from now on.
But even her voice was fading, slipping into the background of his consciousness. Slowly, it was being replaced by something far worse: the suffocating weight of isolation. The gravity of his situation pressed against him from all sides, dragging him deeper into a void where he was utterly powerless and unbearably alone.
Francine had always been a skilled manipulator, but the way she just wrote him out of existence, turned his dear Donna on him, and began to Rigorously scrub him out of her life, was nothing less than horrific. That she had managed to do it with such speed and efficiency too, was chilling.
With his energy sapped, his hope gone and his fate sealed, he stared off into space, slumped against the back of the locket, arms lazily hanging at his side, he looked up only at the angelic sound of Donna's voice.
“Donna…” He whispered, too weak to reachout a hand. It sounded so close he could feel it.
"Well thanks momma, I really appreciate everything you've done for me." There was sorrow and anguish in Donna's voice, she was trying to sound upbeat and positive, and failing miserably.
Francine was leaving!
"You know I would do anything for you Donna." Fran's voice emanated from behind the great Wall that was her chest.
This was it, the last time he would ever hear Donna’s voice. The last chance for Francine to suffer a change of heart. The last chance he had for a miracle, an act of god, anything.
"We're gonna head out too, I think.." The distant voice of Sarah could be heard.
They were all leaving, going their separate ways, moving on as if he didn’t even matter, giving up just like the police would.
There would be an investigation, an inquiry, they would all be questioned maybe, but Francine would lie, cheat and manipulate her way out, they would never suspect her. Their was not so much as a crumb leading back to her, she could waltz into the precinct with him dangling from her neck, right under their noses, and nobody would bat an eye.
She was winning…no…she had already won.
"You sure you don't want Gracie to stay with you for a few days, Donna?" Fran asked with concern.
"I'll be ok." Donna replied, flattered.
"Well, I’ll be staying with mum for the rest of the week then. Call if you need me ok?" Gracie's voice was soft and sweet.
“Tomorrow we’re going apartment hunting, right?” Sarah’s voice came next, nearly as loud as Francine’s suggesting she was standing closer than Donna.
Dan’s heart sank. Donna was moving already? It had only been two weeks!
“It’s for the best, hon,” Fran spoke up, idly fiddling with the amulet that encased her prisoner-in-law.
Dan watched as the thick pads of Fran’s fingers pressed against the crystal prison. The simple motion to her felt like a roller coaster to him. He fumbled, tumbling around, smacking his head against the walls. It was like being trapped inside a pinball machine.
“I know…” Donna’s voice cracked as she responded. “I didn’t say I was moving. He might still show up. I just…” Donna trailed off, but Sarah cut her off before she could finish.
“Of course, just getting out of the house. No commitment, right?” Sarah’s tone was calm, positive; almost coaxing, like trying to calm a feral cat cornered in a room.
Dan landed face-first against the crystal front of the pendant. She was moving. The last connection they had, and now his cruel captor was taking that away from him too?
“Goddamn you! Will you not be satisfied until I’m dead? Fuck you, Francine Delmont! Fuck you!” Dan pounded against the transparent walls with renewed vigor, but the prison refused to give. His captor didn’t even acknowledge him, not even the slightest hint of recognition.
"Ok, well see you later, and again...thanks for the help guys. " Donna spoke out, interrupting Dan from his rage.
"Remember dear, don't worry about a thing. This is a time to celebrate! You're going to be a mother!" Fran broke in, sounding upbeat.
Beyond the rage, sorrow, and anger, Dan came to the startling realization that with that simple goodbye, Fran was about to walk out for good. He could see the impression of Donna’s breasts against the silken blouse, his prison obscured behind it. Once Francine walked out those doors, her victory would be complete.
She had spent the last few weeks winning Donna over to her logic, the past few days eroding the last traces of her daughter’s resistance, and the final hours helping Donna deconstruct every aspect of their shared life. There would be no last-minute change of heart, no dramatic reveal. This was not some elaborate ruse to prove his foolishness. Francine Delmont was erasing him from existence.
She had been the first to discover him at his cursed new height, and now, she would be the very last.
Dan's heart pounded as he listened to the unmistakable click of Francine’s heels against the ceramic floor; each step a hammer striking the coffin of his hope. The sound was relentless, rhythmic, and cruel, echoing through the emptiness of what had once been his home, his life. His hands, trembling with desperation, pressed against the thick glass wall of his prison, as if some invisible force could still stop it all, but the reality was sinking in, sharp and undeniable.
Donna’s final goodbye reverberated in his ears, but the words were distant now, muffled as if they came from another world. The faintest murmur from Gracie and Sarah followed, fleeting and hollow. And then, the door slammed shut with a deafening finality, the sound like a death knell that sealed his fate.
His wife was gone. His family was gone.
“No... not yet. Francine, please, it’s too soon. Just let me get one last look, just one more glimpse of her, please!” Dan screamed, his voice raw, but it was lost in the cold, unyielding silence that followed. He pressed his trembling hands against the thick glass, the warmth of his body fogging up the surface, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t push past the truth.
The clicking of Francine’s heels on the marble was the only sound now, fading into the distance, a cruel reminder that there would be no change of heart, no miracle. The door was closed, his last connection to the life he had known severed.
This was final. There would be no coming back from this. He was lost, erased.
***
Fran pulled her blouse off and set it loosely against the armchair in her bedroom. She slipped her trousers off and walked in front of the full-length mirror. Her body had aged well; her skin was smooth and well-kept, with only the most subtle signs of her age showing. She ran her hand over her smooth, tight stomach and eyed the amulet around her neck with a proud, victorious smile.
Dan pressed himself against the front of the pendant, his tiny form straining to see. He could make out a vague, distorted image of Fran before him, dressed only in her crimson bra and panties. She bore a terrifying, possessive smile across her full, thick, plush lips.
"Can you believe I'm going to be a grandmother, Dan? At my age?" Fran asked, her voice carrying a note of amusement. She frowned slightly as she looked herself over in the mirror. Her hands traced down her stomach, across her thigh, and back up to her breasts. Taking one in each hand, she manipulated them around, squeezing them with a pensive look on her face. Her long red-painted nails dug slightly into the yielding flesh as she examined their firmness and shape.
"I still look damn good. Far too young to be a grandmother!" Fran scoffed as she let go. Truthfully, she looked more like Donna's sister than her mother.
"Don't do this! Francine, please! Don't take this from me! Don't you do it! Don't! Please!" Dan pleaded in desperation, tears running down his face. "I want to be a father! I don't want to give that up!"
Fran glanced down at the amulet idly for a moment, then slowly unhitched it and held it in her hand. Painfully slow and meticulous, she curled her long fingers into a fist.
"No! No, no, no, please! Have mercy! Oh god, help me! Francine, please!" Dan begged as he beat against the front of the crystal prison. But her fingers completed their encroachment, and darkness swallowed him whole.
"This presents a problem however, Dan. You're far too dangerous to leave alive now, I'm afraid," Fran spoke with no hint of remorse, her voice cold and flat. "Imagine if you were to get out. Imagine if this ever reached Donna's ears? Heavens, she would never let me see my precious grandbaby. I’m sorry, I just can’t take that risk, Dan."
His eyes went wide, she was just going to kill him now? After all that, just snuff him out completely? "You don’t have to do this!" Dan screamed, his voice muffled by the walls of his prison. He could just make out her disgusted, smug expression through a gap between her fingers. It was as if she was looking down on a mere ant.
“She will be taken care of,” Fran continued, her voice unwavering. “I will do for her what you never could.”
Fran made her way across the room, and Dan struggled to make out what was in front of him. Through the narrow gap between her fingers, he could just make out a small oak box, gold trim gleaming faintly, and a small keyhole at the front.
"Goodbye, Dan. I hope this sick little fantasy of yours was everything you had hoped," Fran scoffed, lifting the amulet before her face. She sent him one last disgusted look before she carefully opened the jewelry box and placed the crystal pendant beside a mess of other bracelets, rings, and necklaces.
"Please... not like this!" Dan whimpered, his voice barely above a whisper as he saw Fran’s hand grasp the lid.
The last sight he beheld before darkness swallowed him whole was her downcast expression, a faint trace of satisfaction creeping across her lips. Her eyes, cold and detached, stared down at him as if he were nothing more than a fleeting inconvenience; an annoying detail to be erased. The finality of it all hit him like a physical blow.
Then, the snap of the lid echoed through the suffocating air, sharp and final, like the closing of a coffin. The sound of her footsteps grew faint, fading into the distance, until there was nothing left but silence.
Still, unyielding, crushing, silence.