“Fancy some sausages or scrambled eggs?” asked Katherine. Alex sat at the table, scrolling through his phone.
“Sausages. Just none of your experimental stuff,” he muttered.
Katherine sighed. Little Emily fidgeted in her arms, making cooking a challenge.
“Could you hold Emily for a bit?” she asked carefully.
“Just let me finish this,” he dismissed without looking up.
Emily started whimpering. Katherine tried soothing her while flipping the sausages. One ended up burnt.
“Burnt again?” Alex frowned. “Maybe pay more attention?”
“Or maybe you could help?” she shot back sharply.
“Here we go… I’m the one working, providing for this family.”
“And what am I doing? Working round the clock—no weekends, no breaks.”
Silently, Katherine slid a plate in front of him. They used to be a proper family, doing everything together. Now it felt like she was dragging the weight alone.
Days blurred into one. One evening, Katherine finally spoke up.
“Alex, we need to talk. You’re always busy—work, games, your phone. What about me? What about Emily?”
“Kate, not this again. I do everything for you two.”
“It’s not just about money. A family needs care, attention, help.”
“That’s your job,” Alex shrugged.
“I need you to be part of this family. I’m tired of doing it all alone.”
“I’m knackered from work, Kate. I need time for myself.”
“And what about me?” Her throat tightened.
Just then, Emily’s cry echoed from the nursery. Alex didn’t move.
After maternity leave, Katherine started a new job. Mornings now began at five. Alex still didn’t lift a finger at home. One evening, she returned late to a dim flat, a mountain of dishes piled high. Alex sprawled on the sofa.
“Fancy making dinner?” he said instead of hello.
“Seriously? I was late, and you couldn’t even wash up?”
“I’m tired.”
“Where’s Emily?”
“Asleep. I ordered her pizza.”
Katherine walked to the kitchen, hands shaking. Later, checking her bank balance, she found Alex had taken three grand from her savings for a new laptop—without asking.
“Since when is it *your* money?” he said. “It’s our shared budget.”
“Shared? Funny, when I ask for help, suddenly it’s *your* contribution that matters.”
The final straw was Emily’s birthday. Katherine spent a week preparing. Alex promised to come early and help.
*”Sorry, stuck at work. You’ll manage,”* he texted an hour before.
Something inside her snapped. That night, tucking Emily in, she made her choice.
Alex came home later than usual.
“Kate, iron my shirt for tomorrow. And where’s dinner?”
She turned slowly.
“Cook for yourself. Clean for yourself. Earn for yourself. I’m not your maid.”
She walked to the bedroom, grabbing a pre-packed bag.
“Where d’you think you’re going?” Alex blocked the doorway.
“No—I’m finally waking up. I can’t do this anymore.”
“What’s the problem? We’re like any other couple—”
“Like any other? Lonely together? You checked out ages ago, Alex. It’s just me—your live-in help.”
She stepped past him, lifting a drowsy Emily from her cot.
“Stop!” He blocked her path. “We’re a family—we’ve got a kid—”
“Family? That ended long ago.”
Her new rented flat was quiet. Alex’s calls came in waves—pleading, angry.
“I’ll fix everything,” he vowed.
“No, Alex. You won’t. Because you still don’t get what’s broken.”
Weeks passed. Katherine settled in, smiling in mornings for the first time in years, the exhaustion fading. Alex called less. Once, he showed up at her work with flowers.
“Let’s try again. I understand now.”
“Too late,” she said softly. “Promises don’t fix things.”
Slowly, she noticed how much lighter life felt—signing up for courses, seeing friends, finally hearing her own voice. Now, in her small rented flat, Katherine wasn’t lonely. She was herself. And that freedom was worth every fear.
