When I stepped out of the showerwhere Id stood under the spray for at least ten minutes, numb to the heat or the coldhe was already on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. The flat, as usual, looked like a bombsite. I walked past him without a word.
Oh, what now? Another sulk? he muttered, not even looking up. Maybe you could start with the kitchen while the kids are asleep.
I stopped. Everything inside me tremblednot from hurt, but something fiercer, something like resolve. Suddenly, I saw it clearly: if I didnt break this cycle now, Id disappear entirely.
No, I said softly. Im not doing anything today.
He lifted his head, frowning.
What dyou mean, no?
I mean I wont. No cleaning, no laundry, no cooking.
He laughed.
Here we go again Get some sleep. Youll feel better tomorrow.
But I didnt sleep. Quietly, I packed a bagsome clothes, my phone, my documents. Then I walked out. No explanations.
Outside, the air was crisp, the wind sweeping down the street. Still, I breathed deeply, as if it were the first real breath Id taken in years. I called my sistershe didnt ask questions.
Come over, she said. Ive got a spare room.
I stayed three days. Three days without demands, without should or must. The first day, I slept almost through it all. By the second, I began to think.
On the fourth day, I went back. Not homejust to the door. Where a tired, guilty woman had once stood, someone else walked in. I wanted to see his face when he realised what hed lost.
He opened the door and paled.
Where the hell were you? Youve no idea what its been like here with the kids! Everything fell on me!
I stepped inside and looked around. The same messdirty dishes, toys strewn everywhere.
I see, I said calmly. Looks exactly how it did when I was doing everything.
He scowled.
Dont start an argument. I cant keep up alone, theres no time
Twelve-hour shifts, I cut in. Every day. Then more work at home. Now you see how it feels?
Silence. Then, quietly:
I didnt realise it was this hard.
I sat at the table and pulled out a sheet of paper.
Look, I said. This is reality.
He stared at the listhour by hour, Id written down how much time cooking, laundry, the kids, the housework took. Beneath it, his own daily tasks. The difference was glaring.
You actually worked this out? he asked, stunned.
Yes. This is our life. Yours and mine.
For minutes, he just stared. Then he stood and walked to the kitchen. No words, but the sound of running waterhe was washing up.
Dont expect me to get it all at once, he said quietly. But Ill try.
His voice was uncertain. I just sat in the armchair, listening to the water, the movements, the house settling into something like peace.
That night, the kids went to bed early. He sat beside me.
I was a jerk, he said. Sorry.
I dont want sorry, I answered. Just understanding.
He nodded.
Got it.
A few days later, he bought a dishwasher. Then a tumble dryer. But the real change? He started getting up earlier to make the kids breakfast. Sometimes, after work, hed pick me up so we could go home together.
It didnt become perfect overnight. There were slip-ups, arguments, exhaustion.
But slowly, he learnedits not the tidiness of the house that matters, but the people inside it.
Now, six months on, the flat no longer looks like a bombsite. Weekends, we take the kids to the park. Sometimes, he even jokes:
Ill mop today. Or should I expect you to vanish again?
And I laugh. Because now he knowsI could. But I dont need to.
He learned the lesson. For good.
