“I Thought You Wouldn’t Come Back…” – A Story of One Return
When Andrew came home from work, he dropped his bag on the floor, kicked off his shoes, and walked into the kitchen.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked out of habit.
Charlotte didn’t even turn around.
“Nothing. But it doesn’t matter. I spoke to the landlady today. Told her we’re moving out at the end of the month.”
Andrew froze.
“What? We haven’t even found a new place yet.”
“Why bother?” She turned to him with a smile. “We’re moving in… with your ex-wife, Emily.”
He sank into a chair, stunned.
“Charlotte, have you lost your mind?”
“Not at all. You said half the flat still belongs to you. We’ll save money, I’ve already found a nursery for Oliver nearby, and the shops are right on our doorstep.”
Andrew felt like he couldn’t breathe. He hadn’t felt in control of his life for ages. His job paid less, the construction project he’d pinned his hopes on was delayed, and money was running desperately short.
Things with Charlotte had been souring for a long time. She was younger, demanding, and used to luxury. Once, it had been attractive. Now, it drained him.
After hesitating for hours, he finally called Emily.
“We’re in a tight spot. Need somewhere to stay for a few months.”
“It’s your flat too, Andrew. Of course, come over,” she replied calmly.
When they arrived, Charlotte glanced around the flat and wrinkled her nose.
“Bit gloomy,” she muttered, walking through the rooms in her shoes. “It’ll do.”
Emily endured it all in silence—until the kitchen. Then she laid down the rules.
“We take turns cleaning. Cook for yourselves. The fridge is shared, but with separate shelves.”
Charlotte was furious.
“We didn’t sign up to live by your rules!”
“And we didn’t sign up to run a boarding house,” Emily shot back, her voice steady.
The next month was a nightmare. Charlotte needled Emily, dropping hints that she should move out. But Emily held her ground. Andrew stayed quiet because he knew—this mess was his fault.
One day, Emily announced, “I’m going to stay with my parents for a bit. Just… please don’t wreck the place.”
Charlotte barely hid her glee. The very next day, she brought it up again.
“I’ve ordered a designer renovation plan, picked out the tiles—we need to pay the deposit—”
Andrew snapped.
“Are you insane? We never agreed to this! I’m not giving you a single penny!”
“Who are you to decide?” she spat back. “You stopped being a husband long ago. Now you’re just an empty wallet.”
That evening, she packed her bags.
“Oliver and I are leaving for Winchester. If you want us back, come get us. And bring money.”
Andrew silently pulled out his card and tossed it into her bag.
“I’ll see my son on Sundays.”
When the door closed behind them, Andrew felt something he hadn’t in years—freedom. He stood by the window, staring at the river for a long time.
A week later, Emily came back. Quiet, as always. He heard the bathroom tap running and rushed in, forgetting anyone else was there.
“Sorry…” he muttered when he saw her.
She walked into the kitchen. Without turning around, he said,
“I think… I still love you.”
“And I do, Andrew. But there’s no going back. Only starting over.”
“I’m ready,” he whispered.
“Ready, he says…” She scoffed. “Feels like I’ll be supporting you all over again. Well? Hungry?”
“Starving. Haven’t eaten all day.”
“Then peel the potatoes. Here, we do everything ourselves.”
