Stephen Clarke stood tall, his suitcase already halfpacked. He was walking away from the woman he had shared fifteen years with, a woman who had stood beside him through every triumph and setback. Margaret, his wife, clutched at him with tears brimming in her eyes, pleading as if it were a cruel joke that he might simply turn back.
Stephen, please dont go, Margaret begged, her voice cracking. We still have to raise the kids. For their sake, dont walk out on us!
The children will understand, Stephen replied, his tone edged with iron. Dont try to bind me with them! Theyre thirteen now; theyve grown up.
Grown up? They still need their father! Margaret sobbed, reaching for his sleeve. He jerked his arm away, his patience snapping.
Dont use the kids as a leash! Dont ruin my life! he snapped, eyes fixed on a future that no longer included the woman he was leaving. He thought of nothing but the bright horizon with his new, younger wife.
With a final clatter of zippers, Stephen crossed the doorway. Margaret collapsed onto the hallway floor, a silent, tearsoaked figure.
Later that afternoon, when Harry and Lily trudged home from school, they found their mother still lying on the carpet, eyes vacant. She wiped her cheeks, stood slowly, and whispered, Dads gone for good.
Dont cry, Mum, Lily said, trying to be brave. Well manage without him.
Exactly, Harry added, nodding. Well get through this, Ill help.
Margaret clung to her children, murmuring, Youre both so kind. Its a blessing to have you. Well get through this, I promise Their resolve was tentative; the night stretched long, and Margaret wept in secret, missing Stephen more often than she cared to admit.
As time wore on, Stephens new life with Claire turned bright on paper but cracked at home. Claire was beautiful, yet she knew nothing of cooking, and when she did, she refused to do it. Frustrated, Stephen began to compare Claire with Margaret, the way hed always known how to live. Claire, fed up, finally turned him out, leaving him on the doorstep of his old house a year later.
His eyes were downcast, his coat rumpled, and he knocked, pleading for forgiveness. I love you, I cant live without you. If you wont take me back, I dont know what Ill do. Margarets heart fluttered at the thought that perhaps she still loved him more than the newer, reckless flame. She argued, said what needed saying, and thenreluctantlylet him in. The children accepted him with a cold politeness; teenage pride barred them from fully forgiving their father.
Margaret felt a surge of triumph. So Im still the best, she thought, while Stephen walked away pleased that his exwife had taken him back, believing it meant she still loved him. For a moment, everything seemed to settle.
But Claire, still nursing a bruised ego, could not stand the notion that Stephen was thriving without her. She renewed her pursuit, and Stephen, ever the restless soul, slipped away again, this time without the swagger of his first departure. He gathered his things on a Saturday, the day the children were at school, and muttered a brief, Im sorry, I was wrong, before stepping out.
Margaret didnt weep this time. She stared blankly at the television, feeling like a failure. No despair, only a simmering anger at herself for once more letting her weakness dictate her actions. She fought to keep her dignity, and only when the door slammed behind Stephen did she finally let the flood of emotion break loose, sobbing into the empty hallway.
By the time Harry and Lily returned from school, Margaret had composed herself. When she told them what had happened, the siblings even smiled.
Bollocks, Harry said dryly. Well manage without him. Actually, it might be better this way.
Stephen returned to Claire as if he were a king, convinced that being summoned meant she loved him. He strutted around as though the whole world revolved around his return, assuming both his new and former wives would always welcome him back. That arrogance lasted only a month before Claire, fed up again, cast him out.
Once more Stephen stood on Margarets doorstep, eyes downcast, heart convinced that forgiveness would come as easily as before. But this time Margaret held the door shut.
You were right then, she said calmly. It was a mistake for us to get back together. Some wounds cant be healed; they have to be cut away. Dont come back.
Stephen stared, stunned, at the realization that he was truly unwanted. He could accept that his young wife might be fickle, but the thought of being abandoned by his own childrenwho he had raisedgnawed at him. He never imagined his former wife would turn him away so completely, and the betrayal cut deeper than any hed known.
