Ballantyne's Alternate Ending

Ross Ballantyne paced the length of his study, his body bristling with impatience. It was fifteen minutes ago since he’d sent for Fiona. Where was the little pest. Always dawdling, he thought to himself then froze mid-step at the sound of a timid knock. The door slowly opened.
It always surprised him how much younger she appeared than her nine years. His heart softened for a fraction of a second then their eyes met. The silver gaze glowered defiantly back at him from under the mop of red hair. His lips tightened. With that tiny heart-shaped face, she looked more and more like Grace each day. In fact, she was the exact image of his faithless wife, except for the stubborn tilt of her jaw.
For nine years he had ignored Fiona. When
Then Grace had walked out on them. And Fiona had turned into a virago. He put up with her for a whole year then belatedly realised there was no reason to and had decided to send her off to a boarding school. This way he wouldn’t have to see her lurking in the corridors staring at him with those accusing eyes as he silently passed her by. She made him uncomfortable, even feel guilty. Yes, it would be best to send her away.
“You wanted to see me, father?”
“Have Bonnie pack your things. You’re going to boarding school in Edinburgh.”
“Really?” Fiona almost smiled then quickly sobered. “Er…I mean, yes,
“I’m…I’m leaving,” she had announced at first in a frail voice, then, “I’m leaving you, Ross,” she’d repeated more firmly.
Speechless, he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. When her words registered a burst of red hot fury spiked inside of him. She was waiting for him to respond, he noticed, and when he didn’t, she turned away.
“You’re joking, right?” He had hissed finally his voice pulsating with anger. “What the hell are you talking about? Where do you think you’re going?”
“Joking?” she’d replied with a bitter laugh. “Hardly! I should have done this a long time ago but I was afraid and alone, and my parents had just passed away. All I ever wanted, Ross, was a family, someone to love. I thought you were it…” Grace had halted unable to speak as she visibly tried to control herself. “Why, Ross, why do you always hurt me?” she had whispered with a break in her voice. Feeling cornered, he had not replied. She had sighed then. “It no longer matters. I’m so tired of being your punching bag. Go ahead and divorce me, Ross,” she had said sounding defeated. “I won’t contest. We won’t bother you