**”I Thought You Wouldn’t Come Back…” – A Story of Return**
When Andrew came home from work, he dropped his bag on the floor, kicked off his shoes, and walked into the kitchen.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked out of habit.
Emily didn’t even turn around.
“Nothing. But that doesn’t matter. I spoke to the landlady today. Told her we’re moving out by the end of the month.”
Andrew froze.
“What? We agreed we hadn’t found another place yet.”
“Why bother looking?” She turned to him with a smile. “We’re moving… in with your ex-wife, Sarah.”
He sank into a chair, stunned.
“Emily, have you lost your mind?”
“Not at all. You said yourself half the flat still belongs to you. We’ll save money, I’ve already found a nursery for Oliver nearby, and the shops are just round the corner.”
Andrew felt like he couldn’t breathe. He hadn’t felt in control of his own life in ages. His job paid less now, the construction project he’d hoped for was delayed, and money was running dangerously low.
Things with Emily had been rocky for a while. She was younger, demanding, and used to luxury. Once, it had been charming. Now, it was exhausting.
After hesitating, he finally called Sarah.
“We’re in a tight spot. Need somewhere to stay for a few months.”
“It’s your flat too, Andrew. Of course, come over,” she replied calmly.
When they arrived, Emily glanced around and wrinkled her nose.
“A bit gloomy,” she muttered, walking through the rooms in her shoes. “It’ll do.”
Sarah endured it in silence. But when it came to the kitchen, she laid down the rules.
“We take turns cleaning. We cook for ourselves. The fridge is shared, but with separate shelves.”
Emily was furious.
“We didn’t sign up to live by your rules!”
“And we didn’t hire you as lodgers,” Sarah replied, her voice steady.
The next month was a nightmare. Emily needled Sarah, hinting she should leave. But Sarah held her ground. Andrew stayed quiet—he knew he was to blame for all of it.
One day, Sarah said,
“I’m going to visit my parents. A break. Just, please, don’t wreck the flat.”
Emily barely hid her glee. The next day, she brought it up again.
“I’ve ordered a designer layout, picked out tiles—we need to pay—”
Andrew snapped.
“Are you mad? We never discussed this! I’m not giving you a penny!”
“And who are you to decide?” she shot back. “You stopped being a husband a long time ago. Just an empty wallet now.”
That evening, she packed her bags.
“Oliver and I are leaving for Bath. If you want us back, come and get us. Bring money.”
Andrew silently pulled out his card and tossed it into her bag.
“I’ll see my son on Sundays.”
When the door closed behind them, Andrew felt free for the first time in years. He stood by the window, staring at the river for a long time.
A week later, Sarah returned. Quiet as ever. He heard the bath running and rushed in, forgetting someone else lived there now.
“Sorry…” he mumbled when he saw her.
She walked into the kitchen. Without turning around, he said,
“I think I still love you.”
“And I, Andrew. But there’s no going back. Only starting over.”
“I’m ready,” he whispered.
“Ready, he says,” she scoffed. “Feels like I’ll be supporting you again. Hungry?”
“Starving. Haven’t eaten all day.”
“Then peel the potatoes. Around here, we do things ourselves, you know.”
*Lesson learned: some mistakes leave scars, but even the deepest wounds can heal—if you’re willing to put in the work.*
