So, he called her a “wretched maid” and stormed off to someone else. But when he came back, he got a shock he never saw coming.
Katie had always heard the same thing from her nan and mum: “In this family, the women never have luck in love.” Her great-grandma was widowed at twenty-two, her grandad died in the factory, and her mum was left alone with a baby before Katie even turned three. She didnt believe in curses, but deep down, she expected her love to end in heartache too. Still, she dreamed of a home, a husband, kids warmth.
Her future husband, Ryan, worked at the same factory where she packed boxes. Different departments, but they ate in the same canteen. Thats how they fell for each other. It all happened fasta few dates, a proposal, then marriage. Ryan moved into her two-bed flat, left to her by her nan. Her mum had passed by then. At first, it was fine: first baby, then the second. Katie did her bestcooking, cleaning, raising the kids. Ryan worked, brought home the money, but he was hardly ever there, and they barely spoke.
When he started coming home late, exhausted, smelling of someone elses perfume, she knew. She didnt ask, terrified of being alone with two little ones. But one day, she cracked:
“Think of the kids, please. Im begging you.”
He just stared, cold. No explanation. No shouting. The next morning, she made him breakfast. He didnt touch it.
“All youre good for is being a maid,” he sneered.
A week later, he was gone. Packed his bags and walked out.
“Dont leave us, please!” she cried in the hallway. “The kids need their dad!”
“Youre a wretched maid,” he repeated, slamming the door. The boys heard. Sat on the sofa, holding hands, confusedwhat did they do wrong? Why did Dad leave?
Katie didnt crumble. She lived for them. Worked as a cleaner, scrubbed stairs, hauled buckets, taught them to read, hand-washed clothes when the machine broke. The boys grew up fast, helping out. She forgot her own dreams. But lifes full of surprises.
One day at the supermarket, she dropped a box of tea. A man picked it up and smiled.
“Need help with your bags?”
“Its fine,” she muttered, distracted.
“Let me help anyway,” he said, already grabbing her shopping.
His name was John. He started showing up at the shop every day, then walking her home, until he turned up at her building to help with the cleaning. The boys were wary, but he was kind, patient. At their first dinner, he brought cake and white roses. When her eldest joked,
“You play basketball?”
He laughed. “Back in school, yeah. Long time ago.”
Later, he admitted, “Had an accident. Talk slow, move stiff. My wife left me. If thats a dealbreaker, I get it.”
“If the boys like you, you stay,” Katie said.
He proposed. And asked to talk to the kids.
“I want to be a proper dad.”
That night, she explained to the boys. They hugged her.
“Our dad walked out and forgot us,” the youngest said. “Be nice to have one who stays.”
So John became family. Taught them football, helped with homework, fixed shelves, made them laugh. The house felt alive again. Years passed. The boys became men. Tom fell in love and went to John for advice. Then the doorbell rang.
Ryan stood there.
“I was an idiot. Take me back. Lets start over”
“Piss off,” Tom snapped.
“That any way to talk to your father?!” Ryan roared.
“Dont speak to my son like that,” John said, steady.
“We dont need you,” the younger one added. “Weve got a dad.”
They shut the door. For good.
Katie stood there, looking at her three menher protectors, her family, built with blood, sweat, and tears. And finally she was happy.
