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 sarcastically, not even glancing up. Maybe you could start with the kitchen while the kids are napping.
I stopped. Everything inside me tremblednot from hurt, but from a strange determination. Suddenly, I saw it clearly: if I didnt break this vicious cycle now, Id disappear entirely.
No, I said softly. I wont start anything today.
He looked up, frowning.
What do you mean, no?
I wont. No cleaning, no laundry, no cooking.
He laughed.
There you go again Get some sleep, youll feel better tomorrow.
But I didnt sleep. Quietly, I packed a baga few clothes, my phone, my documentsand walked out the door. No explanations.
Outside, the wind swept through the streets, cold and biting, 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 demands, without should or must. The first day, I slept almost the whole time. By the second, Id started thinking.
On the fourth day, I went back. Not homejust to the door. Where a worn-out, guilt-ridden woman had once stood, now someone else walked in. I wanted to see his face when he realised what hed lost.
He opened the door, his face pale.
Where have you been? Youve no idea what Ive been through with the kids! Everything fell on me!
I stepped inside and looked around. The same messdirty dishes, toys scattered everywhere.
I see, I said calmly. This is exactly how it looked when I was doing everything.
He scowled.
Dont start an argument. I cant manage alone, I havent got the time
Twelve-hour shifts, I cut in. Every day. And then more at home. Do you finally understand now?
Silence. Then, quietly:
I didnt realise it was this hard.
I sat at the table and pulled out a sheet of paper.
Look, I said. This is the reality.
He stared at the listevery hour accounted for: cooking, laundry, the kids, the chores. Beneath it, his own 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 water runninghe was washing up.
Dont expect me to understand everything straight away, he said quietly. But Ill try.
His voice wavered. I sat in the armchair, listening to the water, the movements, the house slowly settling.
That evening, the kids went to bed early. He sat beside me.
I think Ive been a right git, he said. Im sorry.
I dont want an apology, I replied. Just understanding.
He nodded.
I get it.
Days later, he bought a dishwasher. Then a tumble dryer. But the real change? He started waking early to make the kids breakfast, and sometimes, after work, hed pick me up so we could walk home together.
It wasnt perfect overnight. There were setbacks, arguments, exhaustion.
But slowly, he learned that what matters isnt a tidy houseits the people inside it.
Now, six months on, the flat no longer resembles a battlefield. On weekends, we take the kids to the park. Sometimes, he even jokes:
Ill do the hoovering today. Or will you vanish again for three days?
And I laugh. Because he knows nowI could. But I dont have to.
Hes learned his lesson. For good.
