Clawing sorrow ripped at the giant Italian man huddled on the couch. His life was in shambles and his heart ached. Rochelle may have been a horrible person, but she had filled his life up for the last five years with something to do and someone to take care of. A small part of him knew that leaving her was the right thing to do for his sanity, but as he lay their clutching the sonogram she had sent him several days prior regret gripped at him. Rochelle was the queen of manipulation and he was well aware of her pregnancy when he had left her, but there was a part of him that felt a duty to go back for his child. Fat man tears poured down his disheveled face as he began to sob once again. Normally he didn't have it in him to cry, but he had been through a lot over the past few months. Watching the carnage unfold in Hogwarts and the aftermath of the insanity was some of the worst he had seen in his years as a medwizard. Nothing could erase the scarring events which left so many young witches and wizards dead or maimed. The shining moment he escaped to try and gather more supplies, he came home to the sonogram wrapped in a letter he refused to read.
Everytime he looked upon his baby another young child's death flashed before his eyes. The thought of being ripped away from his baby before ever getting a chance to meet him or her seemed ludicrous after witnessing such loss. Calloused fingers flailed blindly for his bottle of fire whiskey as his thoughts pushed him to sob even harder. He needed to drown in drink for a while, to forget the things he had seen. To forget the cursed woman that would take his child away from him, when so many parents would never see their children again. Oh he hated her more than he ever could have.
Taking a long swig from the bottle, Mannie rolled over and buried his face in one of Noemi's decorative pillows. Maybe if he could just sleep for a while, he could forget any of this ever happened. With Noemi having been gone for the last few nights, he hoped to continue to enjoy his sorrow alone.
