**Diary Entry 6th May**
The morning Emily walked out, a fine drizzle pattered against the windows of our little house tucked between rows of tall oaks in Bristol. Id just poured cereal into five mismatched bowls when she appeared in the doorway, suitcase in hand, her silence sharper than any words.
I cant do this anymore, she whispered.
I looked up from the kitchen counter. Do what?
She gestured down the hall, where laughter and baby shrieks spilled from the playroom. This. The nappies, the noise, the dishes. The same routine every bloody day. I feel like Im drowning.
My heart sank. Theyre your children, Emily.
I know, she said, blinking fast, but I dont want to be a mum. Not like this. I need to breathe again.
The door clicked shut behind her with a finality that shattered everything.
I stood frozen, the silence broken only by the sound of cereal going soggy in milk. Around the corner, five little faces peeked outconfused, waiting.
Wheres Mum? asked Lily, the eldest.
I knelt and opened my arms. Come here, poppet. All of you.
And thats where our new life began.
The early years were brutal. Id been a secondary school science teacher but quit to work night shifts as a courier so I could be home days. I learned to plait hair, pack lunches, soothe nightmares, and stretch every last quid.
There were nights I cried silently at the kitchen sink, head bowed over a pile of dishes. Moments I nearly brokewhen one child was ill, another had a parents evening, and the youngest spiked a fever all in the same day.
But I didnt break.
I adapted.
Ten years passed.
Now, I stood in front of our sunlit house in shorts and a dinosaur T-shirtnot for style, because the twins loved it. My beard was thick, streaked with silver. My arms strong from carrying groceries, rucksacks, and sleepy children.
Around me, five kids laughed, posing for a photo.
Lily, 16, clever and bold, wore a backpack covered in physics badges. Zoe, 14, was our quiet artist, her hands always stained with paint. The twins, Oliver and Ava, 10, were inseparable, and little Sophiethe baby Emily had held just once before leavingwas now a lively six-year-old, darting between her siblings like sunshine.
We were about to leave for our annual spring hike. Id saved all year for it.
Then a black car pulled into the drive.
It was her.
Emily stepped out, sunglasses on, hair perfectly styled. She looked untouched by timeas if the decade had been one long holiday.
I froze.
The kids stared at the stranger.
Only Lily recognised herbarely.
Mum? she said uncertainly.
Emily removed her sunglasses, voice trembling. Hello kids. Hello, Thomas.
I stepped forward instinctively, shielding them. What are you doing here?
I came to see them, she said, eyes glistening. To see you. Ive missed you.
I glanced at the twins clinging to my legs.
Sophie frowned. Daddy, whos that?
Emily flinched.
I knelt and hugged Sophie. This is someone from the past.
Can we talk? Emily asked. Alone?
I led her a few paces away.
I know I dont deserve anything, she said. I made a terrible mistake. I thought Id be happier, but I wasnt. I thought leaving meant freedom, but all I found was loneliness.
I stared at her. You left five children. I begged you to stay. I didnt have the luxury of walking away. I had to survive.
I know, she whispered, but I want to make it right.
You cant fix what you broke, I said calmly. Theyre not broken anymore. Theyre strong. We built something from the ashes.
I want to be in their lives.
I looked at my childrenmy tribe, my purpose.
Youll have to earn it, I said. Slowly. Carefully. And only if they want you to.
She nodded, tears streaking her cheeks.
As we walked back, Lily folded her arms. Now what?
I placed a hand on her shoulder. Now we take it one step at a time.
Emily crouched before Sophie, who eyed her curiously.
Youre pretty, Sophie said, but I already have a mum. Its Zoe.
Zoes eyes widened, and Emilys heart cracked again.
I stood beside them, unsure what came next but certain of one thing:
Id raised five remarkable humans.
Whatever happened next, Id already won.
The weeks that followed were like walking a tightrope over ten years of silence.
Emily started visitingfirst just Saturdays, with my cautious approval. The kids didnt call her Mum. They didnt know how. She was Emilya stranger with a familiar smile and an uncertain voice.
She brought giftstoo many. Expensive ones. Tablets, trainers, a telescope for Zoe, books for Lily. But the kids didnt need things. They needed answers.
And Emily didnt have them.
I watched from the kitchen as she sat at the picnic table, nervously trying to draw with Sophie, who giggled and ran back to me every few minutes.
Shes nice, Sophie whispered, but she cant do my hair like Zoe.
Zoe grinned proudly. Because Dad taught me.
Emilys eyes widenedanother reminder of all shed missed.
One evening, I found her alone in the lounge after bedtime, eyes red.
They dont trust me, she murmured.
They shouldnt, I said. Not yet.
She nodded slowly, accepting it. Youre a better parent than I ever was.
I leaned back in the armchair, arms crossed. Not better. Just present. I didnt have the choice to leave.
She hesitated. Do you hate me?
I didnt answer straight away.
At first, yes, I admitted. But that hate turned to disappointment. Now? Now I just want to protect them. Even from you.
Emily looked down at her hands. I dont want to take anything from you. I lost the right to be their mother when I left.
I leaned forward. Then why come back?
She met my gaze, eyes full of painand something deeper. Regret.
Because Ive changed. In ten years of silence, I heard all the things Id ignored. I thought leaving would help me find myself, but I only found an echo. A life with no meaning. And when I tried to love again, I kept comparing it to what Id left. I didnt realise what I had until it was gone.
I let the silence stretch. I owed her no kindnessbut for the kids, I offered it.
Then prove it, I said. Not with gifts. With time.
Over the next months, Emily started small.
She helped with school runs. Came to Oliver and Avas football matches. Learned how Sophie liked her sandwiches cut and which songs Oliver hated. She attended Lilys science presentations and even Zoes art exhibition at the community centre.
And slowlynot all at oncethe walls began to crack.
One evening, Sophie climbed onto her lap without hesitation. You smell like flowers, she murmured.
Emily held back tears. Do you like it?
Sophie nodded. Will you sit with me at movie night?
Emily glanced at me across the room. I gave a slight nod.
It was progress.
But the question remained: Why had Emily really come back?
One night, after the kids were asleep, we stood on the back porch. Fireflies danced in the grass; a cool breeze cut the silence.
Ive been offered a job in Manchester, she said. Its a good opportunity. But if I stay, Id have to turn it down.
I turned to her. Do you want to stay?
She took a shaky breath. Yes. But only if Im truly wanted.
I looked at the stars. Youre not coming back to the same home you left. That chapters closed. The kids built something newand so did I.
I know, she said.
They might forgive you. They might even love you. But it doesnt mean were a couple again.
She nodded. I dont expect that.
I studied her a long moment. But I think youre becoming the mother they deserve. And if youre willing to earn every scrap of trust we can find a way forward.
Emily exhaled slowly. Thats all I want.
**One Year Later**
The Carter house was noisier than ever. Rucksacks piled by the door, shoes scattered on the porch, the smell of spaghetti bolognese in the kitchen. Zoes latest painting hung above the sofa, and I helped Oliver glue a volcano model for his science project.
Emily walked in with a tray of biscuits. Fresh out the oven. No raisins this time, Olly.
YES! Oliver cheered.
Sophie tugged Emilys sleeve. Can we finish the flower crown later?
Emily smiled. Of course.
Lily watched from the hallway,
