When I stepped out of the shower, where Id stood motionless under the spray for at least ten minutes, numb to both heat and cold, he was already on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. The flat, as usual, looked like a warzone. I walked past him without a word.
Oh, so youre sulking again? 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 from a strange, steely resolve. Suddenly, I saw it clearly: if I didnt break this vicious cycle now, Id disappear entirely.
No, I said softly. Im not starting anything today.
He lifted his head, staring at me.
What do you mean, no?
I wont. No cleaning, no laundry, no cooking.
He laughed.
Here we go again Take a nap. Youll feel better tomorrow.
But I didnt sleep. Quietly, I packed a baga few clothes, my phone, my documents. And I walked out the door. No explanations.
Outside, the air was crisp, the wind sweeping down the street, yet I took a deep breath, as if I could finally breathe properly for the first time. I called my sistershe didnt ask questions.
Come over, she said. Ive got a spare room.
I spent three days there. Three days without accusations, without should or must. The first day, I slept almost straight through. By the second, I began to think.
On the fourth day, I went back. Not homejust to the door. Where a drained, guilt-ridden woman had once stood, a different person stepped inside now. I wanted to see his face when he realised what hed lost.
He opened the door, paling.
Where have you been? Youve no idea what Ive been through here with the kids! Everything fell on me!
I stepped in, glancing around. The same messunwashed dishes, toys strewn everywhere.
I see, I said calmly. Exactly how it looked when I was doing everything.
He frowned.
Dont start an argument. I cant manage alone, I havent got the time
Twelve-hour shifts, I cut in. Every day. And then Im expected to keep up here too. Now you understand how it feels?
Silence. Then, quietly:
I didnt realise it was this hard.
I sat at the table, pulling out a sheet of paper.
Look, I said. This is reality.
He saw the listhour by hour, Id written down how long cooking, laundry, the kids, the housework took. Beneath it, his 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 at the paper. Then he stood and walked into the kitchen. No words, but I heard the rush of waterhe was washing up.
Dont expect me to get it all at once, he said quietly. But Ill try.
His voice was uncertain, for the first time. And I just sat in the armchair, listening to the water, the movement, the house slowly settling.
That evening, the kids went to bed early. He sat beside me.
I think Ive been a prat, he said. Sorry.
I dont want an apology, I replied. Just understanding.
He nodded.
Got it.
A few days later, he bought a dishwasher. Then a tumble dryer. But the most important thing? He started waking earlier to fix the kids breakfast, and sometimes picked me up after work so we could walk 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 living in it.
Now, six months on, the flat no longer resembles a warzone. On weekends, we take the kids to the park together. Sometimes, he even jokes:
Ill mop today. Or should I expect you to vanish for another three days?
And I laugh. Because now he knowsI could. But I dont need to.
He learned his lesson. For good.
