Simon Clarke gathered his belongings with a stiff, proud air. He turned his back on the woman he had shared fifteen years with, the one he had built a life with in a modest terraced house in Manchester. Emma watched him, eyes rimmed with tears, pleading as if this were a cruel joke and he would never really leave.
Simon, dont go, Emma begged, her voice cracking. We still have the children to raise. For their sake, stay.
The children will understand, Simon shot back, the words tasting bitter. Dont try to bind me with them anymore! Theyre already thirteen; theyve grown up.
How can they have grown up? At their age they still need their father! Emma sobbed again, reaching for his sleeve. He brushed her hand away with a cold flick.
Dont tie me down with the kids! Dont ruin my life! he snapped, his mind not on the children or the pain he was causing, but on the bright future he imagined with his new, younger wife.
With a final clatter of suitcases, he walked out. Emma collapsed onto the hallway floor, the sound of her sobs echoing off the plaster.
When Jack and Emily came home from school, Emma was still lying there, no longer crying, but staring blankly at the wall. She rose slowly, brushed herself off, and whispered, Dads gone forever.
Dont cry, Mum, Emily soothed, trying to keep her voice steady. Well manage without him.
Exactly, Jack added, his jaw set. Ill help. Well get through this.
Emma clutched them both, tears spilling anew. Youre so kind. Im grateful to have you. Well survive, well be alright
They did pull themselves together, though not instantly. Emma spent many sleepless nights weeping in the darkness, grieving the man she had loved, though the ache faded a little each day.
As Emmas sorrow lessened, Simons life with Lucy Harper, his new partner, grew increasingly unbearable. Lucy was lively but hopelessly inept around the house; she refused to learn, and Simon found himself constantly reminded of Emma. He fell into old habits, treating Lucy as a standin for the life hed left behind. Lucy, fed up, threw him out of her flat, sending him back to the doorstep of his former home.
A year later Simon stood again at Emmas door, eyes downcast, shoulders slumped, his clothes dishevelled. He begged for forgiveness, pleading, I love you, I cant live without you. If you wont take me back, Ill never survive. Emmas heart fluttered at the sound of his voice, a mixture of old love and bitter pride. She voiced her grievances, but finally let him in. The children accepted him with muted politeness; teenage pride and hurt kept them from offering genuine forgiveness.
Emma swelled with a quiet triumph. So Im still the best, she thought, watching Simon linger, relieved that she had let him return. For a moment, everything seemed to settle into a fragile new normal.
But Lucy, still nursing her wounded pride, could not stand the thought of Simon thriving without her. She reopened the door to him, and Simon, unable to resist, slipped back into her grasp.
This time his departure was less theatrical. He packed his things on a Saturday, the one day the house was quiet, and slipped out with a terse, Im sorry, I was wrong. Emma didnt burst into tears; she stared at the television, a mask of calm covering the storm inside. She felt like a failure, angry at herself for having believed his promises again. She fought to keep her composure, only allowing herself to break once the door clicked shut behind him.
By the time Jack and Emily returned from school, Emma had collected herself. When she told them about their fathers sudden exit, the siblings reacted with unexpected relief.
Good riddance, Jack muttered, a grin breaking through. Well manage without him, maybe even better.
Simon returned to Lucy, basking in the glow of being wanted again. He strutted around her flat as if the world revolved around his return. Yet his reign with Lucy lasted barely a month before she, too, cast him out.
Once more, Simon found himself on Emmas doorstep, head bowed, sure that forgiveness would be his again. But Emma shut the door before he could speak.
You were right then, she said evenly. We were a mistake. Some wounds cant be healed; they must be cut away. Dont come back.
The rejection hit Simon like a blow. He was no longer needed by his younger wifeshe was a fleeting windbut now even his childrens fatherhood seemed stripped of meaning. He had never imagined such betrayal from the woman hed once called his own, and he wondered who, if anyone, truly needed him now.
