I want to live for myself and catch up on sleep, my husband declared on his way out.
Three months thats how long the madness lasted. Three months of sleepless nights, with little Alfie screaming so much that the neighbours banged on the walls. Three months of me shuffling around like a zombie, red-eyed and trembling from exhaustion.
Meanwhile, Tom wandered through our flat, stormy-faced, like a dark cloud hanging overhead.
Can you imagine what I look like at work? he griped one morning, eyeing his reflection in the mirror. I look like Ive slept at the train station! Bags under my eyes down to my chin.
I kept silent. Feeding Alfie, rocking him, feeding him again. Over and over. Locked in a cycle. And somewhere nearby was Tom my husband who, rather than helping, only ever moaned.
Maybe your mum could come over for a bit? he suggested one evening, stretching after his shower, fresh-faced and relaxed. Thought I might nip down to Steves cottage for a week.
I just froze, bottle in hand.
I need a break, Sophie. Seriously. He started packing gym gear into his holdall. I havent slept properly for ages.
As though I was sleeping! I could hardly keep my eyes open. But every time I lay down, Alfie began crying again. Fourth time that night.
Its hard for me too, I whispered.
I know its hard, he shot back, shoving his favourite shirt into the bag, but my jobs important. Cant exactly talk to clients looking like a homeless bloke.
Then something shifted. I saw us from the outside: me greasy dressing gown, hair sticking up, clutching a wailing baby. Him packing his bag, running away.
I want to live for myself and sleep properly, Tom muttered, not even looking at me.
The door slammed.
I stood in the middle of the flat, Alfie crying in my arms, feeling everything inside me unravel.
A week passed. Then another.
Tom called three times, mostly asking if things were alright. His voice distant, as if I was a casual acquaintance.
Ill come home at the weekend.
He didnt.
Ill definitely be over tomorrow.
He didnt show up.
I kept rocking our screaming son, changing nappies, mixing formula. My sleep came in scraps half an hour here and there, between feeds.
How are you managing? asked my friend Clare.
Brilliant, I lied.
Why did I lie? I was ashamed. Ashamed hed walked out. Ashamed I was alone with a baby.
But the worst was yet to come. At the shops, I bumped into one of Toms colleagues Emma.
Wheres your hubby? Emma asked.
Working a lot these days.
Well, typical blokes soon as theres kids, theyre always tied up at work. Emma leaned in: Tom still goes off on business trips, then?
What business trips?
Oh, he just went to Manchester for a seminar! Showed us the photos.
Manchester? Since when?
I remembered Tom hadnt rung for three days last week; said he was busy.
Busy, my foot. He was enjoying himself in Manchester.
Tom finally turned up on Saturday with a bunch of flowers.
Sorry Ive been gone so long. Tons to do at work.
Did you go to Manchester?
He froze, holding the bouquet.
How did you know?
Doesnt matter. Why did you lie?
I didnt. Just thought youd be gutted if I went without you.
Without me? With a baby, I wouldnt have gone anywhere.
Tom, I need help. Do you understand? I havent had a proper night’s sleep for weeks.
Well hire a nanny.
With what? You havent given me any money.
What do you mean? I pay the rent and the bills.
What about food? Nappies? Medicine?
He was silent, then said:
Maybe you should get back to work? Even part-time? No point sitting at home. Well get a nanny.
Sitting at home, as if I was relaxing!
I picked up Alfie, looked at Tom, and it dawned on me this man didnt love me.
He never had.
Go, I said.
What?
Just leave. Dont come back till you know whats more important: your family or your freedom.
Tom grabbed his keys and left. Gone for two days. Then a text: Im thinking.
Meanwhile, I didnt sleep. I just thought.
Imagine, for the first time in months, youre left alone with your thoughts.
Mum rang:
Hello Sophie, how are you? Is Tom home?
Hes away.
Another lie.
Do you want me to come over? Help a bit?
Im coping.
But that didnt stop her. She showed up anyway.
Whats going on here? She looked around the flat. My goodness, Sophie, look at you!
I checked the mirror. I looked a state, alright.
Wheres Tom?
At work.
At eight in the evening?
I was silent.
Whats happening?
And I broke down. Proper sobbing, like a child loud and desperate.
He left. Said he just wants to live for himself.
Mum was silent. Then she said,
Hes an absolute scoundrel.
I was surprised. Shes never used words like that.
I always thought Tom was weak. But not this weak.
Mum, maybe Im the one to blame? Maybe I shouldve been more understanding?
Sophie, isnt it hard for you?
Her straightforwardness cut through everything. I realised: Id spent all this time thinking about Tom. His exhaustion, his comfort.
Never once about myself.
What should I do?
Live. Without him. Better alone than with someone like him.
Tom came back on Saturday, looking tanned. Clearly, hed been thinking at the cottage.
Can we talk?
Alright.
We sat at the kitchen table.
Listen, Sophie, I get that its tough for you. Its not easy for me, either. Maybe we can make a deal? Ill help you with money, visit Alfie. For now, Ill live somewhere else.
How much?
What?
How much money?
Um, about £400.
£400. For the child. Food. Medicine.
Tom, get lost.
What?!
You heard me. Dont come back.
Im offering a solution!
A solution? You wanted freedom. What about mine?
Thats when Tom said the line that settled it all:
What freedom do you have? Youre a mother!
I stared at him. This was the real Tom selfish, childish, thinking motherhood was a life sentence.
Tomorrow, Ill file for child support. Youll pay a quarter of your salary. By law.
You wouldnt dare!
I will.
He stormed out. And for the first time, I could breathe.
Alfie cried. But now I knew: I would manage.
A year went by.
Tom tried to come back twice.
Sophie, shall we try again?
Too late.
He grumbled that I was cruel. It didnt ring true.
I found a nanny, got a job as a nurse.
At work, I met a doctor named Andrew.
Do you have kids?
A son.
And his dad?
Living for himself.
Introduced them. Andrew brought a tiny toy car for Alfie. They played and laughed together.
We started going out, all three of us, to the park often.
Tom found out. Called:
Hes only one, and youve already got another man around him!
What did you expect? That Id wait for you?
But youre a mother!
Yes. So?
He never rang again.
Andrew was different. When Alfie got sick, he came straight over. When I was exhausted, hed take us to his cottage.
Now Alfies two. He calls Andrew Uncle. Cant remember Tom.
Tom remarried. Sends money.
I dont hold a grudge.
Now, Im living for myself too. And its wonderful.
