Thawing My Frozen Wife and Daughter

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Ive always been a spoiled prick. It was my brand. I married an ice queen who didn't love me, and together, we produced a mini-iceberg of a daughter.

By the time my daughter was five, I was still the undisputed tyrant of the household, treating them like high-end service staff. Honestly? I lived for it. I loved the way they looked at me with simmering resentment while still attending to my every whim. It felt like winning a game they hadn't agreed to play.

Then, the Feed appeared.

Translucent lines of text began scrolling across my vision like a high-speed Twitch chat.

[Finally, the villains countdown starts. The Male Lead just transferred to the Female Leads company. He even took Little Bit to KFC today. The story is finally getting on track.]

[He spends all day abusing our Queen and the kid. Thank god they eventually kick him to the curb to make the Hero happy. Watching this spoiled brat end up homeless and paralyzed from the waist down after a car accident is going to be peak cinema.]

[Im literally just waiting for the scene where the happy family of three visits him in the hospital just to mock his useless, broken body. Pure catharsis.]

I jerked my legs back so hard I nearly gave myself whiplash.

My wife, Catherine, who was currently kneeling to dry my face, and our daughter, Madeline, who was massaging my calves, were both splashed with water.

The two of themthe Big Iceberg and the Little Icebergsimultaneously knitted their brows. Their expressions were identical masks of irritation. I started stammering.

"Thats... thats enough. Ill do it myself."

Madeline, only five, tilted her head. Her tiny mind clearly couldn't process why her father, the man of a thousand demands, was suddenly calling an audible.

"Daddy? Is the water too cold?"

My heart hammering against my ribs.

"No. Im done. I don't need the massage. Just... stand up. Both of you."

I swallowed hard, looking at Catherine. She was still on one knee, a designer towel draped over her arm, looking like a Greek statue carved from spite.

"You too. Get up."

Compared to Madeline, Catherine was a fortress of composure. Used to my mercurial moods, she calmly stood and reached for a fresh towel.

[The more humiliated they are now, the better the payback will feel later.]

[Making a billionaire CEO wash his feet and an heiress rub his legs? This guy has a death wish.]

I stared at the scrolling text in silence.

So, I was the villain. A "Male Supporting Character" designed to be hated. Catherine and Madeline were the stars of some cosmic drama, and I was just the obstacle.

According to the Feed, I was basically a placeholder. Catherine had only had Madeline with me because she was afraid of childbirth and wanted to "practice" with a secondary character before the real Hero arrived. Eventually, this guythe Male Leadwould appear, rescue them from my tyranny, and theyd finally see what a "good man" actually looked like.

Then theyd become a perfect family of three, and Id be a memory in a wheelchair.

I clenched my fists.

Fine, Catherine was one thing. We were a corporate merger, an arrangement of convenience with zero emotional foundation. But Madeline...

I looked at the little girl standing obediently by the chair. She had her mothers sharp features and that same cool, detached gaze, but she was my daughter. I had raised her. I wasn't about to just hand her over to some "Hero" so he could play house with my life.

I cleared my throat, trying to sound casual.

"Hey, kiddo. If... if Mommy and I ever got a divorce, who would you want to live with?"

Madeline blinked. Then, mimicking her mothers stoic posture, she spoke with a chillingly adult coldness.

"Daddy, don't make pointless hypotheses."

I felt the air leave my lungs. I looked up and met Catherines amber eyes. They were like a still lakebeautiful, but there was no life beneath the surface. She stepped forward, knelt again, and took my foot in her hand to finish drying it.

"Don't say things like that in front of the child," she said softly.

Madeline nodded, turned like a little soldier, and walked toward the door.

"I'm going to sleep."

The Feed exploded with mockery.

[What is he thinking? The daughter is a carbon copy of the mother. She hates him just as much.]

[Catherine at least knows how to mask it for the sake of the prenup. The kid looks like shes holding back vomit every time he touches her.]

[LOL, as if hed ever actually divorce her. And even if he did, why would Madeline choose him? To be his footstool for the rest of her life?]

[His only purpose is to be a piece of trash, get thrown out, and then die in a wreck so we get a happy ending.]

My heart skipped a beat. I snatched the towel out of Catherines hands.

"I said Ive got it!"

Catherines brow furrowed slightly, but she didn't argue.

Later, lying in bed, I tried to process the information. I pulled up my silk pajama bottoms, staring at my legs. They were long, well-toned, and currently very much attached to my body. I refused to accept a future where I lost them.

I decided then and there: I had to stop the "oppression."

If the Feed was right, I couldn't stop the "Hero" and Catherine from meeting. Fate was a railroad track. But if I could prove to my daughter that I was a loving father, maybejust maybeshed choose me when the inevitable split happened.

I looked up just as Catherine stepped out of the ensuite. She was wrapped in a plush robe, droplets of water tracing the line of her throat.

When she saw me lying there with my pajama legs rolled up, staring intensely at my own shins, she paused. Her eyes darkened.

I was too busy planning my "Worlds Best Dad" campaign to notice the shift in the room. Then, Catherine walked to the closet and pulled out a set of lingerie Id bought for her months ago. She held a black lace slip in one hand and a sheer purple set in the other.

Her ears were slightly flushed, but her face remained a mask of marble as she waited for my "command."

The Feed went wild.

[Why is the screen going black?! I pay for the premium tier, let me see!]

[Villain, Ill stop cursing you if you just turn the camera toward your wife.]

[Miles, share the wealth. Let us see the CEO in her prime.]

Amidst the horny comments, a few "Original Story" purists chimed in.

[I hate this. Even knowing how Madeline was conceived, I still feel like Catherine is being coerced. Does the villain not see how much she hates him every time he makes her wear that stuff?]

[Its disgusting. She said no the first time, and he keeps forcing the "dress-up" hobby on her. Hes a creep.]

[Whatever. Just remember those legs shes standing on wont be there much longer. That makes it easier to watch.]

I took a sharp breath. Looking at Catherinewho was bracing herself to put on clothes she clearly loathed just to satisfy my "whims"I grabbed the duvet and yanked it over my legs.

"I... Im not in the mood tonight. Lets just sleep."

The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush a man.

The Feed was stunned.

[Wait, did he just pass?]

[Look at Catherines face. She looks... pissed? What did he do now?]

[Probably some new psychological torture. Look how hard shes gripping that lace. Shes at her breaking point.]

I noticed it too. Catherines expression was harrowing. The moment I said "not in the mood," her face darkened by several shades. Usually, it took an hour of coaxing and demanding to get her into those outfits. Now, seeing the Feeds vitriol, I was terrified of even breathing too loud.

"Understood," Catherine said. Her voice was as cold and clinical as a surgeons.

She tossed the lingerie back into the closet, climbed into bed, and turned away from me.

I gripped the blanket, feeling my legs beneath the fabric.

I love you, legs. See you tomorrow.

The next morning, the sun was streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our penthouse. I walked into the dining area to find the Big and Little Icebergs already seated.

The moment I sat down, Catherine stood up to get me a croissant. Madeline, struggling with the weight of a heavy glass milk carafe, hopped off her chair to pour my drink.

The Feed started up again.

[He really is a piece of work. They have three nannies and a chef, but he makes the wife and kid wait on him. Unbelievable.]

[He says its to "teach Madeline the value of service" so shell be a good wife someday. As if an heiress needs to serve anyone.]

[He just likes the power trip. Hes a control freak.]

My pulse spiked. I reached out and caught Madelines small arm before she could pour.

She looked up at me, confused. "I put in a spoon and a half of sugar, just like you like."

I took the carafe from her and poured it myself. "Its fine. I can do it. Go back to your breakfast."

Madeline stared at me as if Id grown a second head, but she slowly climbed back into her seat.

Catherine emerged from the kitchen, looking troubled. "Were out of the imported balsamic glaze. Ive already sent the driver to pick some up..."

I picked up a plain piece of toast. "Its fine. I don't need it today."

The room went silent. Even the housekeeper paused in the hallway. Catherine looked at her empty hands, her brow deepening into a heavy frown.

"Daddy," Madeline whispered, her eyes wide. "You didn't throw the plate at Mommy."

I choked on my toast. Was I really that much of a monster?

The Feed answered for me.

[Wait, did he actually take the toast? Usually, if the glaze is missing, he has a full-blown tantrum. Last time, he threw the whole tray across the room.]

[Look at poor Madeline. Shes terrified. She thinks her dad has been possessed by a demon.]

I took a bite of the dry toast, too guilty to keep reading. A small piece of greens fell from my sandwich and landed on my thigh. Without thinking, I frowned at the stain on my silk loungewear.

Suddenly, a hand reached out with a napkin. Catherines hand.

She began to wipe my thigh, and for a second, my heart stopped. I had a flash of the "future"my legs becoming invisible, growing wings, and waving goodbye to me.

I swatted her hand away and stood up abruptly.

"I can do it myself!" I snapped, then immediately softened my voice. "I mean... its just a small thing. Ive got it."

I looked at my daughter. "Maddy, from now on, you don't need to pour my milk or rub my legs. Daddy is a big boy. I can take care of myself."

Madelines brow remained tightly knitted. "Daddy... are you sick?"

I felt a sting in my chest. This kid. I try to be nice and she thinks Im dying.

For the rest of the meal, I stayed quiet. I didn't bark orders. I didn't complain about the temperature of the coffee.

Madeline kept glancing at me, her tiny face scrunched in suspicion. Catherines eyes tracked my movements like a hawk watching a confusing new prey.

After they left for the day, I collapsed onto the sofa. I looked up at the massive, oversized wedding portrait hanging in the center of the living room.

The truth was, I had been obsessed with Catherine long before the merger. But she was a glacier, and every guy I knew had crashed and burned against her. I had my pride; I didn't know how to "pursue" someone like her. So, when the families tied us together, I was secretly ecstatic.

Until our wedding night.

Id been outside her study, ready to be the perfect husband, when I heard her talking to a friend.

"Miles is a spoiled brat," the friend had said. "You really drew the short straw."

And Catherines voice, so flat and indifferent: "Its just a transaction. We each get what we need. Thats what marriage is."

That little flame of hope in my chest had died right then. If she wanted a "spoiled brat," I decided I would give her the most demanding, arrogant version of myself she could imagine. If she wasn't going to love me, she was at least going to notice me.

Id designed every inch of this house. Every rug, every appliance. Catherine never cared. The only time shed voiced an opinion was when I insisted on hanging that giant wedding photo.

"Its tacky," shed said. "It doesn't fit the aesthetic."

Id hung it anyway, out of pure spite.

Now, six years later, I finally saw it for what it was: a monument to a one-sided fantasy.

"Elena," I called out to the housekeeper. "Get someone to take this down and throw it away."

The boy who hung that photo was gone. The man remaining realized that in Catherines eyes, he was no different from the furniture.

I could handle a loveless marriage. What I couldn't handle was the Feed, which was currently live-streaming the "Heros" day like a CCTV camera.

[The Hero just got Catherine a coffee. She actually smiled at him! Im screaming!]

[He made a typo on a report, hes such a clumsy dork. Catherine is definitely going to find him adorable.]

I closed my eyes, trying to sleep.

When I woke up, the sky was bruised purple, and thunder was rolling across the city. My phone buzzed. It was Catherine.

"Did you fall asleep on the sofa?" Her voice was steady.

"Yeah," I mumbled.

"I have to work late. If it gets too late, Ill stay at the hotel near the office. Have Madeline sleep in your room tonight."

Before I could answer, the Feed blurred past.

[She is working late, but the Hero is there too! A rainy night, an empty office... its so romantic.]

[I love a power couple. The Ice Queen CEO and her hardworking, soulful employee. Unlike her man-child husband.]

[Exactly. Hes scared of a little thunder? He needs his five-year-old to hold his hand? What a loser.]

I took a deep breath. "No need. Stay at the office. Im fine."

As I spoke, I noticed Madeline standing by the door, her backpack still on. Shed been listening. She didn't say a word, just turned and walked into her room.

Catherine spoke again on the phone. "The wall behind you..."

I turned. The wedding photo was gone, leaving a blank, pale rectangle.

"Where is it?" she asked.

"I had it tossed," I said. "Go back to work. Bye."

I hung up before she could respond. I stared at the empty wall. It looked better this way. Cleaner.

After dinner, the storm worsened. I was rubbing my eyes when I felt a presence. Madeline was standing there, clutching a storybook.

"Fine," she said, her face a mask of duty. "Lets go. Ill put you to sleep."

I wasn't actually that afraid of thunder; I just hated the heavy, oppressive atmosphere of storms. Usually, I used the weather as an excuse to be particularly "demanding" with Catherine in bed.

[Ugh, hes so annoying. A five-year-old has to tuck him in? This is ridiculous.]

[Hes so oblivious. The kid looks like shes going to a funeral. He cant harass his wife, so hes harassing his daughter. When does the Hero get here?]

I looked at Madeline. She looked like a miniature version of Catherineemotionless and bored.

"Its okay, Maddy. I can sleep by myself. Go to bed."

I waved her off. For a split second, her lip trembled.

"But Mommy said I had to stay with you."

I was about to argue when the sound of a car horn honked in the courtyard. I froze. The Feed froze too.

[Wait, why is Catherine home? What about the Hero?!]

Madeline dropped her book and ran to the door like it was a life raft. She grabbed her mothers hand the moment Catherine stepped inside.

"Daddy wont let me stay with him," she tattled, her voice tight.

Catherine nodded, her face unreadable. The Feed was a chaotic mess of question marks.

"Why are you back?" I asked, confused.

Catherine didn't answer. She was staring at the empty space where the wedding photo used to be. Her eyes seemed to turn a shade darker.

"You said it was tacky," I said, feeling defensive. "So I got rid of it."

She stared at me until I felt a chill. Then she turned to Madeline.

"Go to bed."

Madeline blinked, looking at me. "Do you still want the leg massage, Daddy?"

"No, no. Go on."

Madeline pouteda rare flash of emotionand then stomped off to her room.

Catherine reached up and loosened her scarf. She looked... stressed.

"Are you in a bad mood?" she asked.

"No, Im great. Best mood of my life."

Silence. She took a deep breath.

Outside, the rain lashed against the glass. The Feed flickered.

[She left the Hero for this? The plot is broken.]

[Don't worry, the 'red thread' of fate is stronger than steel. Theyll find each other again.]

Just as that text scrolled by, Catherines phone rang on the nightstand. She was in the bathroom, and the sound of the shower was already running.

"Phone!" I called out.

The Feed perked up.

[Here it is! The Hero is calling!]

[Is the villain going to answer it? Hes such a creep about privacy.]

[Let him! Itll just make her hate him more. In the original book, he answered her phone once and screamed at the guy. Catherine ended up throwing him out. It was glorious.]

Then, Catherines voice came from the bathroom. "Answer it for me. See what they want."

I stared at the phone as if it were a live grenade. "No. Just come out and do it yourself."

The water stopped instantly.

Catherine stepped out, her hair a mess of shampoo suds. She looked at me, her gaze heavy and strange, then picked up the phone.

A mans voiceclear, bright, and soulfulrang out through the quiet room.

"Ms. Montgomery? I sent over the two proposals, but I haven't heard back..."

Catherine didn't look at the phone. She looked at me. She seemed to be waiting for something.

I felt incredibly awkward. Why was the guy's voice so loud?

The Feed was losing it.

[Is he going to lose it? Usually, if a man calls her after hours, he breaks things. One time he even scratched her face.]

[His tantrums just make the Hero look better. Keep it up, Miles! Every scream is a nail in your coffin!]

The word "coffin" triggered a physical reaction. I started coughing violently. I stood up, heading for the door.

"Im... cough... going to shower."

A hand caught my arm.

Catherine took a deep breath, as if she were suppressing a volcanic eruption. She hung up the phone without a word.

"Its after hours," she said to the dead screen. "Well talk tomorrow."

Then she turned to me. "A man calls me at night, and you have nothing to say? You aren't angry?"

The room was dead quiet. She stared at me for a long time, then slowly let go of my arm.

That night, she tossed and turned until the early hours of the morning.

The Feed wouldn't stop.

[Shes clearly regretting her choice. Shes wondering why she isn't with the Hero right now instead of this loser.]

[Hes pathetic. His wife is literally dreaming of another man right next to him.]

I clenched my fists under the covers. Fine. Whatever.

As soon as I could convince Madeline to come with me, I was filing for divorce. Id leave Catherine to her "Hero" and her "Destiny." I just wanted my legs and my daughter.