Popular Mechanics Ending Re-Write

In this exercise, we were asked to alter the ending of a short story - Popular Mechanics by Raymond Carver in his book Sudden Fiction.

The story is about a couple fighting over the baby when husband planned to pack and leave the family. They started with arguemnt, then each grapped the hand, or the body of the poor littly boy. The original ending hinted a tradegy ending when neither of them let go the fragile body of the little boy.
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But he would not let go. He felt the baby slipping out of his hands and he pulled back very hard. The baby was howling and trembling.

See what you did to the baby! Give it back to me. After all, it’s really mine, not yours, not yours, she contemptuously uttered. Confused at first, then vexed, confound and devastated, he let go of the baby and collapsed onto the floor.

I am not his dad, I am not his dad…I am not….., he murmured.

Running out from the kitchen, she held her baby close to her face, just to make sure the little thing was still breathing. She was still astounded by what she just said. She never planned to tell him this. But it seemed to work.

Now what? Call 911? There was no violence, at least not yet. Go to her mom’s place? It was a two-hour drive and it’s already late, but could be an option. Knocked on neighbor’s door to get some help? She didn’t know any of them. What about just go to a nearby inn? She turned around, planning to go upstairs to get some cash, only to see her husband holding chopping knife pointed towards her.

Please, don’t do that! She begged. Nonchalant as he was, he waved his arm up and all she could see was the reflection of her face on the sharp knife.

NOOOOO, the mother and son screamed hysterically, a deeply frightened sound that disturbed the silence of the snowy night.

What’s wrong, sweetie? His hand on her forehead, he gently comforted his terrified wife and wiped the sweat off from her face.
Nothin’…….nothin’… just a nightmare, she tried to sound calm and natural enough – to her own ears, at least.

What is it about?

I forget…..I don’t know. She paused. I don’t know. Well, something about the snow. She turned her face, stood up and walked towards the baby bed to avoid the eye contacts.
How could she forget? It was the 10th time she had this nightmare since the birth of the baby 6 months ago and it got more and more violent each time. Postpartum depression or a sense of guilt, the irrevocable secret had been burdening her physically, psychologically and psychiatrically.

I should tell him the truth. She could not remember how many times she struggled, out of conscience or selfishness.
The baby boy was sleeping peacefully. She touched his little face and ran through his head, letting the soft hair rested on the finger which still circled by the wedding band since a decade ago.

Walking back to her husband, she decided, once more, she would have to endure those nightmares and guilty feelings, again and again, maybe forever.