It was as if Katharina was doing everything in her power to anger and upset him. He drank by Ben all the time. He never spilled it, Ben never drank it. Walden wasn't doing anything to harm his son, but he was extremely compelled to knock the bloody hell out of his wife. Very carefully, so as not to spill a drop, least he prove her right, Walden set the plastic cup down on the table and stood up. Having to control his temper had given him a pounding headache, and if he didn't remove himself from the situation quickly his ability to continue exerting such control was going to disappear.
"Then perhaps it was a self-fulfilling prophesy," Walden snarled, very close to her face. "Just as well, I don't think I could stomach anything you cooked at this point." Walden took Ben's head in his hands, and kissed the top of it, before speaking to Katharina again, "I'm going out. Don't wait up."