Are you serious, Daniel? Honestly, tell me this is just some terrible joke. Or maybe its just the water running and I misheard you?
Rebecca switched off the tap, wiped her hands on the tea towel, and turned slowly to face her husband. The kitchen was thick with the aroma of simmered veg, fresh parsley, and satsumasall the hopeful promise of the festive season. Only six hours until midnight, and a new year. On the table, towers of chopped ingredients waited to become potato salad, a golden roast duck rested in the oven, and a homemade trifle set in the fridge, shivering under cling film.
Daniel hovered in the doorway, shuffling guiltily, toying with the buttons of his checked shirta sure sign he knew exactly how ridiculous this all sounded, but had no intention of backing down.
Becks, please, dont start, he pleaded, his voice soft, almost apologetic. Nicolas had a burst pipe. Well, not a burst, exactly, but the waters off. And theres no heating. Imagine the kids, New Years Eve, in a freezing house. I couldnt just say no. Theyre my boys, at the end of the day.
The boys, yes, I understand, Rebecca answered, wrestling to keep her voice calm while her insides trembled with hurt. But Nicola? Is she your child too now? Cant she go to her mums? A mates house? Or, I dont know, book herself into a hotel? The child support you pays more than enough for her to splash out for a night or two.
Her mums at a spa, her friends are away, Daniel looked away. And its New Year’s. Itll mean a lot to the lads, spending it with their dad. Were just going to have a quiet dinner, watch the fireworks on TV, that sort of thing. Theres plenty of room here, and its just for the night.
Rebecca let her eyes drift around the kitchen. Yes, their flat was spacious, but it was *theirs*. Shed spent the week scrubbing, putting up the tree, handpicking napkins to match the curtains, splurging on that aftershave Daniel kept hinting about. Shed imagined the evening so clearly: candlelight, the faint twinkle of fairy lights, soft music, just the two of them. Their first English New Years together, at home, after three years of marriage. No guests, nowhere to rush off to.
Now, she felt that peaceful image topple, like a house of cards.
We agreed, Daniel, she reminded him in barely more than a whisper. Just us, this year. Im not against your boys, you know that. I always welcome them for weekends. But Nicola? You invited your ex-wife to share our table. Do you see how that makes me feel?
Youre making a drama out of nothing, Daniel tried to sound confident, waving her off. Were adults. Nicolas just their mum, nothing more. Come on, Rebecca, dont be selfish. Its Christmas. You cant be so heartless. Theyll be here in an hour.
He turned and left the kitchen before she could throw the tea towel at him. Rebecca remained, gripping the counter, the sound of duck fat crackling in the oven almost mocking her empty appetite. Dont be selfish. That stung more than anything else. For three careful years, shed triedshed organised their home, welcomed his boys, put up with late-night phone calls from Nicola, requests for Daniel to fix leaky taps or collect the cat from the vet. And this was her reward.
She forced herself to keep dicing potatoes, hoping her temper would fade. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldnt be so bad. Perhaps Nicola could behave for one evening. After all, isnt New Years a time for new beginnings?
No such luck. The bell rang fifty minutes later. Rebecca changed out of her old jumper into a dress and swept on a little makeup just in time. Daniel all but skipped to the door like an eager schoolboy.
Chaos burst into the hallway. The boys, Charlie, aged ten, and Freddie, seven, hurled themselves inside, muddy boots and all, tracking stains across the clean parquet. Next, regal as a grand dame, swept Nicola.
She wore a fire-engine red dress with a plunging neckline, arms full of oversized John Lewis bags. Her perfume, cloying and sticky-sweet, smothered the crisp citrus smell.
At last! she declared, scattering snow onto the hall floor as she shucked off her faux fur. The traffic! I had to basically beg the taxi to break the speed limit. Daniel, take the bags. Thats presents for the boys and a bottle of real champagne. Not the usual cheap stuff, darling.
Rebecca stepped out, teeth bared in a polite smile.
Evening, Nicola. Boys, hello.
Nicolas eyes took her in, pausing on Rebeccas plain but elegant dress.
All right, Becca, she tossed over her shoulder. Blimey, its airless in here! Open a window, would you? And where are my slippers? You remember, Daniel, the pink pair I left last time I swung by for the cheque?
Of course, Nic, Ill grab them, Daniel responded in a fluster, digging into the shoe rack.
Nic The spring in Rebeccas chest tightened. In *their* home, the ex had her own slippers waiting? And Daniel knew exactly where they were?
The clatter marched into the lounge. Charlie and Freddie instantly cranked the telly to max volume and leapt on the brand-new cream sofa, which Rebecca had, up to now, treated like a holy relic.
Charlie, Freddie, please, she said gently.
Oh let them, theyre only little! Nicola waved her off, sinking into an armchair. Daniel, water please, Im parched.
The next hour was a one-woman performance. Nicola was everywhere, inspecting the tree (What dull baubles! Ours were much cheerier), criticising the place settings (Whats with all the cutlery? Its not Buckingham Palace, is it?), barking at the children before coddling them in the next breath. Daniel followed her like a spaniel: fetch a cushion, turn the TV down, now up, find my phone charger. He barely glanced at Rebecca, avoiding her gaze.
Silent and upright, Rebecca laid the table, ferrying plates and glasses, nothing more than a servant at a strangers party.
Rebecca! boomed Nicola from the lounge. Potato salad with ham? Oh, honestly, thats ancient historyDaniel likes it with beef. You never knew? Always beef at ours.
Daniels been happily eating my potato salad for three years, Rebecca shot back, setting the dish on the tray louder than needed.
Well, hes just too polite then! Nicola cackled. Poor Daniel, forcing it down.
Daniel, paused in the doorway, attempted a feeble smile. He didnt defend Rebecca. No Stop it, Rebeccas cooking is spectacular. He simply stayed silent, unwilling to ruffle his ex-wife.
That was the first warning. The second came when Rebecca brought out the duckgolden, plump, jewelled with roasted apple and prunes. She set it down, proud.
Help yourselves, duck with Bramleys and prunes.
The boys pounced, recoiling at once.
Ugh, its burnt! Freddie declared. Can we have pizza, Dad?
Its just the crispy skin, darling, Rebecca tried to explain.
Kids never eat that sort of thing, Nicola interjected, prodding at the drumstick as though it might leap off the dish. Its so greasy. And prunes? Seriously, who puts prunes with meat? Daniel, just order pizza. For me too, I best not risk itmy stomachs delicate.
Daniel looked sheepishly at Rebecca.
Becks, maybe shes right? It is New Years. They want to enjoy themselves. Ill order quickly; itll only be half an hour.
You cant be serious? Rebeccas voice shook. I spent four hours on that. Twenty-four hours marinating. Its my best dish.
Dont take it to heart, Daniel tried to reassure, reaching for her shoulder, but Rebecca pulled away. Everyones got different tastes. Well have both. Makes for a bigger spread.
He started dialling the takeaway, consulting with Nicola over toppings.
Rebecca slumped into a chair. It was surrealher home, her kitchen, her celebration. But she was the extra here, while Daniel and Nicola discussed pizza as Nicola sneered at her cooking.
Oh, Daniel! Nicola giggled, popping the champagne unasked. Remember New Years 2015? That lakeside cabinwhen you put on the Santa suit and the beard just wouldnt stay on! Ive never laughed so much.
Oh God, yes! Daniel broke into a proper smile. And you were the elf, heel snapped in the snowdrift!
They reminisced, the stories spilling out: holidays by the coast, the first family car, Charlies first steps. It was their world, their history, sparkling between them. Rebecca sat at her beautifully laid table and felt invisible. Like furniture. Like nothing.
The boys shrieked, dashing round, and someone knocked a glass of red wine. It slid, then crashed, spilling a stain across Rebeccas pristine white cloth, the one shed pressed just that afternoon. The red spread and bled like an open wound.
Oh honestly, Nicola moaned. Daniel, do something. And who puts wine at a kids end of the table? Rebecca, you got any salt for this? Although, its only a cheap cloth. Hardly a tragedy.
Rebecca stood, her blood thudding in her ears, blotting out the fireworks on TV. She watched Daniel scurry for the salt, ticking off Nicolas errands without so much as glancing at his wife.
That was when she realised: she didnt exist here. Not for Daniel. There was Nicola, there were the boys, and Daniels guilt hanging heavy around their necks. Rebecca? She was a convenient background, expected to wait, serve, and stay quiet.
She walked out. No one spoke. Nicola ranted about new curtains to Daniel, who laughed loudly. Not even Freddie stopped bouncing on her new sofa.
In the bedroom, she shut the door. It was dark, the only light coming from the street lamp pooling over the bed. Rebecca reached for her gym bag. Her hands were steadyno trace of anger now, just cold clarity. Jeans, woolly jumper, fresh knickers, makeup, phone charger. Passport.
She tore off her party dress, tugged on boots, checked her reflection: a tired, determined woman with lips pressed tight.
As she crossed the hall, the door buzzer soundedpizza delivery.
Yes! Pizza! the boys hollered.
Daniel, pay the driver, Ive only twenties! Nicola barked.
Rebecca slipped by, bag in hand, while Daniels back was turned. She opened the door quietly, closing it behind her. The click of the lock was muffled by the cheers from the lounge. She called for the lift, letting herself exhale only as it descended.
Outside, snow drifted in thick flakes. The street sparkled as the city readied itself for midnight. Rebecca pulled out her phone.
Sophie? Are you up?
Youre joking, arent you? Its ten. Were on our second bottle already. Whats wrong? You sound… odd.
Ive left Daniel. Mind if I come round?
My Godof course! Adam, get another plate! Becks is on her way! Where are you? Ill book you a cab now!
Forty minutes later, Rebecca was curled up in Sophies cosy kitchen, filled with cinnamon and calm. Adam, Sophies husband, tactfully retreated to fiddle with the telly, leaving space for the friends.
Come on, Sophie poured her tea and squeezed lemon in. Whats that idiot done?
Rebecca explained. The leaky pipe. Nicolas insults. The sneering at her food. The endless parade of old family stories.
Its not even them turning up, Sophie, she said, wrapping cold hands around the mug. Its him. He became her lackey. He forgot I even exist. I may as well have been the cleaner while they played happy families. Why am I here, if he still cant let them go?
Sophie shook her head. Classic nice guy syndrome. Wants to please everyone but ends up trampling you. Im glad you left. If youd put up with it, that wouldve just become normal. Someone has to draw the line.
Rebeccas phone buzzed an hour after she lefther absence finally noticed, once the pizza had settled.
Daniel rang. She let it ring out.
He tried again. Then again.
The texts poured in.
Rebecca, where are you? Weve lost you.
Have you just popped to the corner shop? Pizza getting cold!
Becks, pick up, this isnt funny. Nicolas asking where the lady of the house is.
Youre sulking? Really? Come back, this is childish. Nicolas getting awkward!
Rebecca read the last one, a sad smile flickering across her face. So his main concern was Nicolas discomfort. Not his wifes humiliation.
Dont answer, Sophie advised. Let him stew. Let him clean up after his dear Nicola and the boys for once.
So Rebecca switched off her phone.
That night, there were no resolutions at midnight. She sipped champagne with her oldest friend, watched Notting Hill and felt astonishingly light. As if the pack shed carried for three years had slipped away without warning.
On the crisp morning of January first, Rebecca woke to the smell of coffee on Sophies sofa. She checked her phone: fifty missed calls. Twenty texts, his tone sliding from stern to frantic, then pitiful.
The boys smashed your vase. The one you loved. Im really sorry.
Nicola caused a row. She says your sofas too firm.
Theyve all gone. House is a mess. I dont know where to start.
Becks, darling, Im so sorry. Ive been a foolplease ring me.
At noon, the doorbell rang. It was Daniel: hair wild, shirt crumpled, a wine stain gleaming, dark circles under his eyes. In his hands, a massive bunch of supermarket rosesprobably cost a fortune on New Years Day.
Sophie opened the door, arms folded, blocking his path.
Turned up at last, have you? What do you want?
Sophie, pleaselet me speak to her. I need to talk to Rebecca.
Rebecca came out. Seeing him like this, she didnt feel anger or pity, just spent.
Rebecca! Daniel began to lunge for her, but her cold stare stopped him where he stood. Rebecca, Im sorry. I get it now. It was a nightmare. The minute you left, it was chaos. Nicola bossed us all, the boys ran wild, knocked the tree over. She told me Im a rubbish father and ruined their night. I called them a cab at threesent them home.”
He panted, searching her eyes.
I was blind, Becks. How much Ive hurt you. I was a coward, worried about disappointing them and forgot about you. Youre my wife. Youre my family. Please, come home. Its so empty. Ive cleaned up well, most of it.
Rebecca glanced at the roses, petals dripping cold water onto the floor.
You didnt just upset me, Daniel. You showed me my placesomewhere between cook and sofa. You let another woman rule my house and let her run me down.
I swear, never again! Daniel said fervently. Ill block Nicola everywhere. Any contact only about the boys and only out in public. No more guests. No more phone calls at midnight. Ill change, I promise.
Rebecca was silent, seeing his sincerity, his fearbut could she forget how it felt, alone at their table?
Im not coming home today, she finally said. I need time. Ill stay at Sophies for a few days. And youyou go home. Have a long, hard think. Not about winning me back, but about why you thought that was okay. Why Nicolas feelings matter more than your wifes.
Ill wait, Daniel replied quietly. As long as it takes. I love you, Rebecca. I really do.
He left the flowers on the table and slipped away. The door closed with a hush.
Rebecca returned to the kitchen. Sophie poured fresh tea.
So? Sophie asked, arching an eyebrow. Will you forgive him?
Maybe. Not yet. With time, perhaps. Hes a good man, just lost his way. But if I do go back, its a clean slate. Ill never let myself be sidelined like that again. Never.
She stood at the window, watching the city blanketed in fresh snow, blank and bright as a fresh sheet of paper. Life went on, and Rebecca finally understood: the pen that writes her familys story belonged in her own hand, not in the trembling hand of someone haunted by ghosts of the past.
