“Want some bangers or scrambled eggs?” asked Katherine. Alex sat at the table, scrolling through his phone.
“Bangers. Just none of your fancy twists,” he muttered.
Katherine sighed. Little Emily was dozing in her arms, making cooking a challenge.
“Could you hold her for a bit?” she asked carefully.
“In a minute, just finishing this,” Alex dismissed her without looking up.
Emily began to fuss. Katherine tried to soothe her while flipping the sausages. One ended up burnt.
“Burnt again?” Alex frowned. “Maybe pay more attention?”
“Or maybe you could help?” she snapped, turning sharply.
“Here we go… I work hard to provide for this family, you know.”
“And what do I do? My job never ends—twenty-four hours a day, no weekends.”
Katherine silently slid a plate in front of him. They used to be a team. Now it felt like she was pulling the weight alone.
Days blurred into one. One evening, Katherine finally spoke up:
“Alex, we need to talk. You’re always busy—work, games, your phone. What about me? What about Emily?”
“Kate, not this again. I do everything for you two.”
“But it’s not enough! Family isn’t just money. It’s care, attention, helping out.”
“That’s your job,” Alex shrugged.
“I want you to be part of this family. I’m tired of doing it all alone.”
“I’m knackered after work, Kate. I need time to unwind.”
“And what about me?” Her voice cracked.
From the nursery, Emily’s cries echoed. Alex didn’t even stir.
After maternity leave, Katherine started a new job. Mornings now began at five. Alex still didn’t lift a finger. One evening, she worked late. When she opened the door, the clock neared nine. The flat was dim, the kitchen piled with dirty dishes. Alex lounged on the sofa.
“Fancy making dinner?” he asked instead of hello.
“Seriously? I’m late, and you couldn’t even wash up?”
“I’m tired.”
“Where’s Emily?”
“Asleep. Ordered her a pizza.”
Katherine walked to the kitchen, hands shaking. Later, checking her account, she found Alex had taken three grand from her savings for a new laptop without asking.
“Since when is it *your* money?” he scoffed. “We share everything.”
“Oh? Then why is it only *your* contribution that matters when I ask for help?”
The final straw was Emily’s birthday. Katherine spent weeks preparing. Alex promised to come early and help.
*“Sorry, stuck at work. You’ll manage,”* he texted an hour before.
Reading it, something inside her snapped. That night, tucking Emily in, she made her choice.
Alex came home later than usual.
“Kate, iron my shirt for tomorrow. And where’s dinner?”
She turned slowly.
“Sort yourself out—cook, clean, earn your keep. I’m not your maid.”
She headed to the bedroom, pulling out a pre-packed bag.
“Where d’you think you’re going?” Alex blocked the door.
“Actually, I’m finally *leaving*. I’ve had enough.”
“What’s the problem? We’re just like everyone else—”
“Like everyone? Lonely together? You checked out ages ago, Alex. It’s just me keeping us floating.”
She stepped past him, lifting a sleepy Emily from her cot.
“Stop!” He grabbed her arm. “We’re a family!”
“Are we?” She met his eyes. “Not anymore.”
The tiny rented flat was quiet. Her phone buzzed nonstop—Alex alternating between threats and pleas.
“I’ll change,” he insisted.
“No, Alex. You won’t. Because you still don’t get what needs changing.”
Weeks passed. Katherine settled in, smiling more, the constant exhaustion fading. Alex’s calls grew sparse. Once, he showed up at her work with flowers.
“Let’s try again. I understand now.”
“Too late,” she said softly. “Promises don’t fix this.”
Gradually, she reclaimed her time—signing up for courses, seeing friends, finally hearing her own voice. Now, in that small flat, she wasn’t lonely. She was free. And that was worth every fear she’d pushed through.
*Sometimes walking away isn’t surrender—it’s choosing yourself.*
