Stephen Clarke gathered his things with a stiff-backed pride. He turned away from the woman hed shared fifteen years withEmma Clarkeheading toward a newcomer who was twelve years younger. Emma watched him, eyes brimming with tears, pleading silently that this was a cruel prank and he would stay.
Stephen, please dont go, Emma implored, voice cracking. We still have children to raise. For their sake, stay!
The kids will understand, Stephen shot back, the edge of a smile in his tone. Dont tie me down with them! Theyre thirteen now; theyre practically adults.
Their age doesnt matter, Emma sobbed again, trying to clamp a hand onto his sleeve. They need their father.
Stephen jerked his arm free, his anger flaring. Dont use the children as a leash! Dont ruin my life! He thought of nothing but the bright future he imagined with his new, younger wife, Lucy Hart, and the fresh start that seemed to glitter ahead.
With his bags slung over his shoulder, he stepped out, leaving Emma curled on the hallway floor, a river of grief spilling from her eyes.
When Tom and Mabel Bennett came home from school, Emma was still sprawled on the tiles, her shoulders still shaking. She no longer wept; instead, she stared vacantly ahead. She rose slowly, wiped her face, and whispered to the twins, Dads gone for good.
Dont cry, Mum, Mabel tried to calm her. Well manage without him.
Exactly, Tom added, his voice firm. Well get through this. Ill help.
Emma clutched both children, tears still hot on her cheeks, and whispered, Youre so kind. Im lucky to have you. Well pull through; everything will be alright. They did pull through, though not instantly. Emma spent many sleepless nights weeping in secret, mourning a husband who was fading further from her memory with each passing day.
Meanwhile, Stephens new life with Lucy was a mixture of laughter and relentless irritation. Lucy knew nothing of household chores, and when she tried, she refused to keep at it. Stephen began to compare Lucy to Emma, using his exwife as a yardstick for everything. Lucy grew tired of playing second fiddle and eventually threw him out, leaving him to the cold doorstep of his former home.
A year later Stephen appeared at the Clarke front door, eyes downcast, his clothes rumpled, his beard untrimmed. He begged Emmas forgiveness, pleading, I love you, I cant live without you. If you wont take me back, Ill never survive. Emma felt a flicker of the old love that had once bound them, but she stood firm. She told him, with dignified resentment, that his return would only reopen wounds. The children, now older, accepted him politely but without enthusiasm; their youthful idealism could not bridge the gap his betrayal had carved.
Emma, however, began to blossom again. She took pride in the fact Stephen had returned, murmuring to herself, Im still the better one. Stephen, buoyed by her reluctant acceptance, convinced himself she still loved him. For a moment, it seemed the pieces might finally fit together.
But Lucy, still nursing her bruised pride, could not bear the thought of Stephen thriving without her. She decided to rekindle their relationship, and Stephen, ever the wanderer, slipped back into her arms.
The second departure was far less dramatic. On a Saturday, when the children were at school, Stephen quietly packed a suitcase, muttered a brief, Sorry, Im wrong, and slipped out the back door. This time Emma didnt collapse into tears or beg him to stay; she sat in front of the television, a mask of composure over a storm of selfdirected anger. She felt sheer failure for having allowed herself to be weak enough to welcome him back once. When the door shut behind him, she finally let the dam break, sobbing until her shoulders shook.
By the time Tom and Mabel arrived home, Emma had steadied herself. She told them what had happened, and the twins, oddly relieved, responded with a cheeky grin, Well, thats thatlife goes on without him. It might even be better.
Stephen strutted back into Lucys life like a king, convinced she had summoned him because she still loved him. He behaved as though the whole world owed him loyalty, believing that both his former and current wives would always welcome him. Yet his reign with Lucy lasted barely a month before she, exhausted by his selfishness, threw him out again.
Stephen found himself once more on Emmas doorstep, eyes lowered, heart certain that forgiveness would fall like rain. But this time Emma held the door shut.
You were right back then, she said calmly. Our reunion was a mistake. Some wounds cant be healed; they have to be cut away. Dont come back.
The words hit Stephen like a brick. He realized he was unwanted by anyoneLucy, a fickle wind, and now Emma, whose love had finally hardened. He clung to the thought of his children, the boys he had raised, but even they could not fill the void left by a wife who had finally closed the chapter. The bitter sting of betrayal he never expected now lay heavy on his chest, a cold reminder that love, once broken, does not always stitch itself back together.
