Please Take Me Back, I Beg You

Take Me Back, Please
Mum, you dont have to I couldnt finish.
My mother, Anne Wilkinson, gently shook her head, tracing the edge of her old armchair with her fingers. The flat was scented with her perfume and dried lavender, which she kept in every room. Those smells would soon vanish.
Im not doing this for you, she said quietly, but for Michael. The boy needs a proper home. Not a rented box where the landlord can toss you out at any moment. No matter what happens between you and Alice, son, the flat must go to Michael. Thats what I want.
Alice stood by the window, her hand on our sons shoulder. Michael shuffled about, perplexed as to why the adults spoke so gently, so cautiously.
Thank you, I managed. Honestly, Mum, thank you.
She brushed my gratitude aside, looking over at Michael, her face softening.
Come here, sweetheart.
Michael crossed the room and allowed his grandmother to pull him closer. Her hands trembled slightly as she cupped his face.
You know, Michael? Youre the best thing that ever happened to me. You have my eyes. My stubbornness. My dreadful taste in music.
Gran Michael mumbled, shy but pleased.
This flat is yours, Anne continued more seriously. Itll be put in your fathers name for now, only because youre not eighteen yet. Youre the reason Im giving it away now, while I still can. Were a family, Michael. I want to take care of you properly.
Two months later, Anne Wilkinson stopped breathing
The three-bedroom flat absorbed us. Every weekend, I stripped the floral wallpaper, painted over old stains, and fitted new lights. Alice unpacked and repacked belongings, wedging them in amongst my mothers remaining furniture.
Michael rushed from room to room, thrilled by the space. At last, he had his own roomwalls to plaster with posters without asking anyone.
Dad, can I put my desk by the window?
Put it wherever you want, son, its your room.
I watched him arrange his figures on the windowsill. Thanks to Mum, my family finally had a home. I should have felt happy, grateful.
Instead, I sensed the walls closing in, the routine thickening around me. Predictable days bleeding into one another. Up. Work. Home. Dinner. TV. Sleep. Over and over until the end
The café near my office became my refuge. I started ducking in after work, delaying my return home by half an hour, then an hour. The barista already knew my order. The corner table by the window virtually belonged to me.
Thats where I met her.
She laughed at something on her phoneloud, perfectly unapologetic. Her laughter drowned out the cafés background murmur. I looked up from my laptop, she caught my eye, and, instead of looking away, raised her eyebrows.
Sorry, she said, not an ounce of regret in her voice. My friend sent the worst joke Ive ever heard. Want to hear it?
I should have declined. Should have finished my spreadsheet and gone home to Alice and Michael.
Go on, I said.
Her name was Lisa. She worked at an advertising agency, loathed her job, adored silly puns. Lisa was vivid, lively, honest.
Youre sinking, she said during our third meeting.
Im not sinking. My lifes good.
But are you happy?
Three weeks later, we found ourselves in the same bed
I told Alice the truth that evening.
I watched her face change as my words sank in.
You slept with another woman, Alice said slowly.
Yes.
I remained silent. Any words would only make things worse.
Alice hurled a towel at me. It bounced off my chest and slumped to the floora pitiful gesture, only fuelling her rage.
You betrayed our family for some young thing? Fourteen years, Tom. Fourteen years of marriage, and you just got bored?
Its not about boredom.
Then what? Alice shouted. Explain, because apparently Im too clueless to understand why my husband decided to destroy everything we built!
I ran my hands across my face.
Im suffocating, Alice. Every day is the same. Work, home, dinner, bed. I needed to feel something different. Something real.
Something real, Alice laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks. I gave you a son. I gave you my youth. And you needed to feel alive?
A door clicked quietly at the end of the hall. Michael had woken up and was hiding in his room. I felt something twist inside me at what my son might have overheard.
Fine, Alice wiped her face roughly, smearing her mascara even more. Fine, Tom. You want to leave? Lets divorce. I wont try to keep you. But lets talk about the flat. Your mum wanted Michael to have it. She told him herself…
The flat stays with me.
Alice froze.
What did you say?
The documents are in my name, I couldnt look her in the eye. Legally its my property. You and Michael will have to find somewhere else to live.
Youre throwing your son out onto the streets, Alice whispered, shocked. Your own child. The boy your mother left this flat to.
Im not throwing anyone out. Youll have time to find somewhere. Ill help with the first months rent, whatever you need, but
Youre a monster, Alice gripped the edge of the table. Youre not a husband, not a fatheryoure nothing. Your mother wouldve been sickened to see what youve become
The following morning, Alice packed her things while Michael sat on the bed, staring at walls hed only just plastered with posters. He wouldnt look at me. Said nothing. Just followed his mother out.
…The divorce was final three months later. I paid child supportnot much, but enough for the court. Every Sunday I rang Michael, and every Sunday the call was rejected. My messages went unanswered. Birthday gifts were accepted with no hint of thanks.
Soon, I stopped trying. The boys angry, I told myself. Hell grow up and understand that adults sometimes have to make tough choices.
Lisa moved in two weeks after Alice left. She filled the flat with candles, decorative cushions, and music playing every hour of the day. She cooked elaborate, expensive meals and insisted on Saturday shopping. With her, I felt young, reckless, and thrillingly free.
And after six months, there were forty-seven pounds in my savings account.
Hotels, restaurants, spontaneous shopping sprees, Lisa twirling out of dressing rooms in dresses that cost more than my monthly food bill. It all felt wonderfulso wonderful I didnt notice the problem until the account was empty.
We need to talk about spending, I told Lisa that evening.
Later, darling, lets talk tonight. Im meeting friends.
She pecked my cheek, grabbed her handbagthe new one Id bought last monthand left.
Lisa didnt return that night…
The next morning, she came and announced it was over. There was no future for us. She was bored, felt trapped… Lisa packed up quickly and left as easily as she’d arrived.
For two weeks, I did nothing but wallow in self-pity. I wandered through the empty flat in the same clothes, left dirty dishes in the sink, didnt open the blinds. Everyone had left methats what I told myself. My son wouldnt talk to me. My wife had taken the best and gone. Lisa, beautiful carefree Lisa, vanished the moment the money ran out.
By week three, the pity turned to something more desperate. I showered, shaved, put on my cleanest shirt, and crossed the city to the address Alice had given in court.
The block was old but decent, a post-war estate with fresh paint and a working lift. Alice let me in without asking why Id come.
Michael, she called over her shoulder dads here.
I stepped into the narrow hall, taking in the modest flat my family now called home. Two rooms, not three. Tight corridor, small kitchen.
But the place breathed warmth and life.
Michael stood in the doorway, taller and leaner than I remembered. In his gaze, turned towards me, there wasnt the slightest warmth.
Michael, I know youre angry, I began. But I realise I made a mistake. I messed up. But we can change things. We can be a family again. All three of us. Your rooms waiting for you, Michael!
Alice leant against the wall, staring at her ex-husband, unimpressed.
People change, I pressed, speaking to both. I had time to think. I know what Ive lost. I understand everything now.
You havent lost anything, Michael shot back. You chose her, not us.
Its not that simple, son.
Dont call me that. Michael stepped forward. You threw us out of grandmas flat. Out of our home. You picked Lisa over me and mum.
Michael, please
We give you another chance, what happens then? Michael cut me off. You meet someone else, get bored again? Toss us aside like rubbish?
I tried to justify myself:
That will never happen. I promise, Ive changed.
Michael shook his head slowly.
I dont need a father like you, he said quietly.
He turned and went to his room.
I looked at Alice, searching for a glimmer of support.
Alice, talk to him. Tell him Ive learned. I understand now.
She shook her head.
I wouldnt forgive you, Tom. Not even if you begged. She moved towards the door. You disgust me. Not because you cheated. Not even because you kicked us out. But because you only came back when she dumped you. When you were left with nothing.
I didnt remember finding myself on the stairwell. I didnt remember getting home
In the end, I was left alone in the three-bedroom flat. Mum believed her family would live here. But now theres nobody left. I pushed away the people who loved me. And now, there’s nothing I can do to fix it.
I learned that nothing is worth more than those who love you. And when you choose yourself over them, no amount of space, money, or freedom will ever make up for what youve lost.