He called her a wretched maid and walked out. But when he returned, he got the shock of his life.
Catherine had always heard the same words from her grandmother and mother: “The women in this family are cursed in love.” Her great-grandmother was widowed at twenty-two, her grandfather died in the factory, and her mother was left alone with a baby before Catherine was even three. She didnt believe in curses, but deep down, she braced for heartbreak. Despite herself, she dreamed of a home, a husband, childrenwarmth.
Her future husband, Richard, worked in the same factory where she packed boxes. He was in another department, but they met in the canteen. It happened fasta few dates, a proposal, marriage. Richard moved into her two-bed flat, left to her by her grandmother. Her mother was already gone. At first, life was calm: first one child, then another. Catherine did her bestcooking, cleaning, raising the kids. Richard worked, brought in the money, but he came home less and less, and words between them grew sparse.
When he started returning late, reeking of another womans perfume, she knew. She didnt ask, afraid of being left alone with two children. But one day, she snapped.
*”Think of the children, please. Im begging you.”*
He said nothing. Just a cold stare. No excuses. No shouting. The next morning, she made his breakfast. He didnt touch it.
*”Youre good for nothing but scrubbing floors,”* he spat.
A week later, he left. Packed his bags and walked out.
*”Dont leave us!”* she cried in the hallway. *”The kids need their father!”*
*”Youre just a pathetic servant,”* he repeated, slamming the door. The boys sat on the sofa, clutching each otherwhat had they done wrong? Why had he left them?
Catherine refused to break. She lived for them. Worked as a cleaner, mopped stairs, hauled buckets, taught them to read, washed clothes by hand when the machine broke. The boys grew up fast, helping where they could. She forgot herself, her dreams. But fate had other plans.
One day at the supermarket, she dropped a box of tea. A man picked it up and smiled.
*”Need help with those bags?”*
*”Im fine,”* she muttered.
*”Let me anyway,”* he said, already lifting her shopping.
His name was John. He started showing up at the shop every day, then walking her home, until one evening he arrived at her building*”Thought Id help with the cleaning.”* The boys were wary, but he was patient, kind. The first time he stayed for dinner, he brought cake and white roses. When her eldest teased,
*”You play basketball?”*
He laughed. *”Back in school, yeah. Long time ago.”*
Later, he admitted, *”Had an accident. Speech is slow, movements stiff. My wife left me. If thats a problem, Ill understand.”*
*”If the boys like you, you stay,”* Catherine said.
He proposed. Then asked to speak to the boys.
*”I want to be a real father to you.”*
That night, she explained. They hugged her tight.
*”Our dad walked out and forgot us,”* the youngest whispered. *”Be nice to have one who stayed.”*
So John became family. Taught them football, helped with homework, fixed shelves, laughed with them. The house breathed life again. Years passed. The boys became men. When Thomas fell in love, he went to John for advice. Thats when the doorbell rang.
Richard stood there.
*”I was a fool. Take me back. Lets start over”*
*”Get lost,”* Thomas cut in.
*”Is that how you speak to your father?!”* Richard roared.
*”Dont talk to my son like that,”* John said, steel in his voice.
*”We dont need you,”* the younger one added. *”Weve got a dad.”*
They shut the door. For good.
Catherine stood there, staring at her three menher protectors, her family, built with blood, sweat, and tears. And at last she was happy.
