Your husband is pregnant, he is cruel, he has an 18-year-old son, Jake, he is also cruel, Daniel has another little son, Alex. He is 4 years old.

The night is quiet, but a storm of tension stirs within the house. The front door slams open, and Jake stumbles inside, reeking of alcohol. His steps are unsteady, but his voice is loud and defiant. Daniel, already tense, glares at him from the couch, his pregnant belly noticeable beneath his shirt. Alex, sitting on the floor nearby, watches the scene unfold with wide, frightened eyes. The air is thick with the unspoken anger between father and son.

Jake, swaying as he walks in

Daniel, voice tight and harsh, leaning forward as his hand rests on his swollen belly: Jake. You're barely standing straight. How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of trouble?"

Jake, sneering, taking a few more steps toward

Alex, looking up at them, his small voice trembling: "Daddy? Jake, stop... please don't fight..."

Daniel, glaring at Jake with cold, furious eyes, his tone venomous as he stands up, his belly pushing against his shirt: "Stay out of this, Alex. This is between me and him."

Jake, looking down at Alex, mocking him with a drunken smirk: "Yeah, kid, go hide behind daddy's belly. That's the only place you'll be safe."

Alex, shaking, crawls behind the couch, his small body trembling, clearly terrified by the argument unfolding in front of him.

Daniel, his anger rising, voice shaking with fury as he steps towards Jake: "Enough! You think I'm soft just because I'm pregnant? You don't know what it's like to actually care for anyone!"

Jake, pushing Daniel's shoulder, still mocking: "Care? You've never cared about anything, especially me. You just care about yourself."

Daniel, voice dangerously low, grabs Jake by the arm, his grip tight and unforgiving: "Don't push me, Jake. I'm done with your disrespect. You'll show some respect in this house, or you'll leave. Got it?"

Alex, crouched behind the couch