Victor Harper stormed into the kitchen, phone glued to his hand. Youve taken my bank card again!
Emily Harper turned from the sink, her hands still slick with suds, her apron damp.
What card? I didnt take yours, she said, wiping her palms on a towel.
Dont lie! It was in my wallet on the nightstand and now its gone! Victor snapped.
I swear I didnt touch it. Maybe you moved it yourself? Emily asked, trying to stay calm.
Victor huffed. I always put it in the same spot. Youre always rummaging through my things!
Emily sighed. After eighteen years of marriage shed learned to expect these outbursts, but they still cut deep.
Victor, calm down. Lets look for it together. Maybe it fell somewhere, she suggested.
No point looking. You took it because you want to spend my money again! he exploded.
What money? I have my own salary! she retorted, feeling the sting of his accusation. She taught primary school, earning a modest but decent wage.
Your teachers pennies wont keep you alive, he muttered.
Emily clenched her jaw. She tried to keep the peace.
Just help me find the card, no drama, she said.
Victor rolled his eyes and left the kitchen, slamming something in the bedroom and closing drawers with a bang. Emily went back to washing the dishesplates, mugs, a pot from the soup. It was a typical Monday evening: shed come home from school, cooked dinner, fed Victor and their daughter, Olivia. Olivia was in her room doing homework when Victor found yet another reason to argue.
Emily! Come here! he called from the hallway.
She set the towel aside and walked over. Victor stood holding her handbag, dumping its contents onto the nightstand.
What are you doing? she asked.
Checking! Since you keep taking my stuff, I have the right to check yours, he replied.
Victor, thats not right. Put the bag back where it belongs, she pleaded.
From the bag tumbled a wallet, a phone, a hairbrush, lipstick, a pack of tissuesand then a clink of keys. Not the ones Emily always carried, but a completely different set.
Victor froze, picking up the strange keyring and turning it over.
What are these? he asked.
I have no idea, Emily admitted, genuinely puzzled. Where did they come from?
Dont you know? Theyre other peoples keys in your bag, and youve got no clue? Victor snapped.
Emily felt the floor drop out from under her. I really dont understand how they got there.
Victor stared at the keys, then at her, his face turning red.
Whose flat are those keys for, Emily? he demanded.
No idea! she said, frustration rising.
Youre lying! Youve got a lover, and these are his keys! he accused.
What? A lover? Have you lost your mind? Emily shouted, hurt.
Then explain how foreign keys ended up in your bag! he shouted back.
I dont know! Maybe someone put them there by mistake! she tried.
Who would accidentally drop keys into someone elses bag? Victor sneered.
Maybe a colleague mixed them up she suggested weakly.
Stop lying! Ive figured it outyoure having an affair! he roared, flinging the keys onto the floor. Eighteen years together and this is how you repay me?
I havent done anything wrong! Lets talk this through calmly! Emily pleaded.
Enough! Pack your things and get out! Victor barked.
Emily stood frozen. What did you say?
I saidleave my flat! I wont keep a cheating wife under my roof! he shouted, his fists clenched.
This is our home! We live here together with our daughter! she shouted back.
Its my flat! Its in my name! I can kick anyone out! Victor growled.
Victor, please stop! Listen to me! she begged.
No, Im done listening! Get out! he ordered, grabbing her coat from the hanger and shoving it at her.
Dad, whats happening? Olivias voice trembled as she peeked out of the hallway. She was fourteen, already sensitive to her parents fights.
Olivia, go back to your room, Emily said, trying to protect her.
Dont, Victor replied, looking at his daughter. Let her see what kind of mother she has.
Victor, stop! Not in front of the child! Emily cried.
Then you can leave yourself! I dont want you here! he snapped.
Emily took a deep breath, looking at Victors flushed face, bloodshot eyes, fists clenched. Shed never seen him like this. He was quicktempered, but hed never thrown her out before.
Fine, she whispered. Ill go. This is a misunderstanding, Victor. I did nothing wrong.
Just leave! he shouted.
Emily slipped on her coat, grabbed her bag, and as the keys fell out again onto the floor, Victor kicked them aside. Dont even try to pick them up! Let them stay as proof!
She walked out, the front door slamming shut behind her, the lock clicking. Emily found herself on the stairs, still in disbelief. Just ten minutes earlier shed been washing dishes in her own kitchen; now she was standing outside her own flat, kicked out by her husband.
She trudged down the cold October street, night already falling, the wind biting. She stopped at the entrance of her building, fumbled for her phone. Who could she call? Her parents had long since passed, her sister lived in Manchester, her friend Irene was swamped with three kids in a tiny flat.
Her phone buzzed with a message from Irene:
Emily, sorryforgot to tell you! I put the school keys in your bag when we were having tea in the staffroom. You were off getting paperwork. Ill pick them up tomorrow morning, okay? Thanks for holding onto them!
Emily read it three times. The keys were from the school. Irene, the deputy head, kept a spare set for emergencies and had asked Emily to look after them while she was at the education office. Emily had agreed, then forgotten.
Her hands trembled as she dialed Victors number. It rang, then went to voicemail. She tried again, same result. She typed a quick text: Victor, those are the school keys! Irene left them! Its a mixup! No reply.
She leaned against the stairwell, the cold seeping through her thin coat. Her mind felt empty.
She wandered aimlessly down the street, eventually ending up on a bench at the bus stop. An elderly lady with grocery bags beside her sat down.
Everything alright, love? the lady asked kindly, noticing Emilys pale face.
Just a family problem, Emily managed a weak smile.
Your husband? the lady guessed.
Yes. He threw me out because of those keys.
The old woman shook her head. Thats a foolish thing to do. You shouldnt be chased out before youve even explained yourself. Men get angry, then they cool down and start thinking.
What if he never cools down? Emily asked.
He will, eventually. Youve got a daughter, remember? Hell think of her. Who will cook, clean, wash? the lady said.
Emily laughed a little. The woman was right. Victor liked the idea that everything was his to manage.
Do you have anywhere to go? the lady inquired.
Im not sure yet, Emily admitted.
Come over to my flat for a cuppa and some warmth. Then we can figure out what to do next, the lady offered.
Emily hesitated, but the lady was insistent. They walked to the next building, up three flights to a cosy oneroom flat, full of knitted coasters, framed photos, and potted plants.
Sit down, dear. Ill put the kettle on, the lady introduced herself as Valentina Johnson, a seventytwoyearold who lived alone after her husband passed and her children scattered.
They chatted over tea and biscuits. Valentina spoke of her own fights with her late husband, how theyd always make up because love was stronger than pride.
Do you think he loves me? Emily asked quietly.
Surely he does. He wouldnt be so jealous otherwise. Men can be a bit childishfirst they flare up, then they think, Valentina replied.
Emilys phone buzzed again, this time a text from Olivia:
Mum, where are you? Dads angry, he isnt saying anything. Im scared.
Emily typed back: Olivia, dont be afraid. Dads just in a bad mood. Go to sleep, well talk tomorrow.
Olivia replied: Mum, is it true you have a lover?
Emilys heart lurched. Victor had already turned Olivia against her.
No, love, thats not true. I have no one else but you and Dad. Its a misunderstanding, Ill explain everything tomorrow, Emily wrote.
Okay, I trust you. I love you, Olivia responded.
Emily put the phone down. Valentina looked at her with understanding.
Your daughters upset? she asked.
Yes. Dad told her all sorts of things.
Kids are smarter than we give them credit for. Shell see the truth eventually, Valentina assured.
Emily stayed the night on Valentinas sofa, a warm blanket and pillow provided. Valentina said, Sleep well. Tomorrow youll have a clear head and can sort this out.
Sleep was elusive. Emily stared at the dark ceiling, replaying the events. How could a pair of school keys topple an eighteenyear marriage? She reflected on Victors recent irritabilityalways finding fault with food, the house, her clothing, her tone. He worked as a site manager, a stressful job, but that didnt excuse his behaviour.
The next morning, Valentina was already making breakfast.
Come on, dear, have something, then you can decide what to do next, she said.
After eating, Emily called Irene, explaining the whole mess. Irene gasped.
Oh my God, Emily! Those keys caused all this! Im so sorry! she cried.
Youre not to blame. Victor is the one who didnt listen, Emily replied.
Ill call him, try to explain, Irene offered.
Irene rang Victor, talked at length, tried to make him see that the keys were just school spare keys. Emily heard only snippets, but Victor remained unconvinced.
Later at school, the headmistress, Mrs. Eleanor Peters, noticed Emilys pallor.
Are you feeling ill, Miss Harper? she asked.
Just a bit off, Emily answered, then broke down in the office, spilling the whole story. Eleanor listened, shaking her head.
That man is a fool. You cant kick someone out without hearing them. He needs to understand that, she said. And if hes trying to cover his own cheating you deserve better.
Emily left, her mind swirling. Olivia called later.
Mum, where are you? she asked.
At work, love. Whats up?
Dad said you wont come back. He says you have a lover and that you betrayed us.
Emilys heart ached. She tried to stay calm.
No, Olivia, I have no lover. Those keys belong to Irene. Theyre school keys, she explained. Dad just made it up.
I believe you, Mum, but Dad wont. Olivia replied, voice trembling.
The next day, Emily returned to Valentinas flat for a warm meal. Valentina asked, Hows it going?
Victor still wont believe me. Olivias scared, Emily said.
Valentina gave practical advice: stop feeling sorry for herself, find a place to stay, talk calmly with your daughter, prove Victor wrong.
Emily began looking for accommodation. A fellow teacher, Sarah, offered a spare room at a symbolic rent.
Ive got a room empty now. Stay as long as you need, Sarah said.
Emily moved in, setting up her modest, cosy space. She kept working, meeting Olivia after school. Olivia would come over, theyd talk, and Emily would explain the situation without slandering Victor, just stating facts.
A week passed with no call from Victor. Emily started getting used to her new routine.
One evening, there was a knock at the door. Victor stood there, looking dishevelled, shoulders slumped.
Can I come in? he asked.
For what? Emily replied cautiously.
To talk, he said, stepping inside.
He looked around the small room, then sat on a chair.
Emily, Im sorry, he began. I was wrong. I didnt listen, I kicked you out, I blamed you in front of Olivia. Ive just learned those were school keysthanks to Irene. I was angry and jealous.
Emily stayed silent, watching him.
You humiliated me, Victor. You accused our daughter of cheating, threw me out of my own house, and didnt even try to hear me out, she said.
I know. Im a fool. I was stupid, he admitted. Can you forgive me?
Emily took a breath. I need time to think.
How long? Victor asked.
I dont know. Maybe a week, maybe two. I have to sort my feelings, she replied.
Victor nodded. Okay. Ill wait. But remember, I love you, and so does Olivia. The house feels empty without you.
He left, and Emily stood by the window, watching the street below, wondering whether to forgive or start afresh.
She called Valentina to tell her what had happened.
I told you hed come around. Now its your calldo you want to go back? Valentina asked.
Its hard. Eighteen years together, a daughter, a familiar life. But he humiliated me, Emily confessed.
People can change. If he truly understands, give him a chance. If not, walk away. Its your right, Valentina advised.
Over the next days, Victor called daily, checking in without pressure. Olivia also phoned, asking for her mum to return.
Mum, Dads nicer now. Hes cooking, cleaning, saying he gets how hard its been for you, Olivia said.
Give me a bit more time, Emily replied.
Two weeks later, Emily made a decision. She called Victor.
Ill come back, but on one condition, she said.
Whats that? he asked eagerly.
No more accusations without hearing me first. If something bothers you, talk to me. No shouting, no blaming.
I promise, I swear, Victor replied.
And apologise to Olivia for turning her against me, Emily added.
Ill do that, he agreed.
Ill be back on Sunday, she said.
On Sunday, Emily packed her things, said goodbye to Sarah, and visited Valentina one last time.
Ready to go back? Valentina asked.
Yes. Im giving him another chance, Emily said.
Good. Family matters, but dont forget yourself. If things go wrong again, leave straight away, Valentina warned.
Emily thanked her, left, and walked home. Victor and Olivia greeted her at the door. Victor lifted her bags, Olivia hugged her tightly. The flat looked tidy, a modest dinner laid out.
Thats what I cooked, Victor announced proudly, though the salad was lopsided and the meat a little dry.
Thank you, love, Emily said, smiling despite the quirks.
After dinner, when Olivia was in bed, Victor and Emily sat down. He kept apologising, promising change. Emily listened, hoping he meant it.
Why did you come back after everything? Victor asked.
Because I love you, and I believe people can change. Youve got a second chance, dont waste it, Emily replied.
I wont, he vowed.
Life settled back into its familiar rhythmwork, home, family. Victor truly did become calmer, helping with chores, asking about Emilys day, avoiding needless arguments.
Six months later, Emily felt shed made the right choice. The family was stronger, trust rebuilding. The nightmare of being thrown out was now just a painful memory, a reminder that respect and trust are essential in any relationship.
One evening Victor raised his cup.
Thanks for giving me another chance, he said.
And thanks for not giving up on me, Emily replied.
They sipped tea together, planning a short holiday, just a regular family looking forward to the future.
