An Apartment for Our Son, but on One Condition: I Must Remarry Him
My name is Margaret, and Im sixty years old, living in Bath. Never could I have imagined, after all Ive endured, that the past would return so brazenly, with such cruel indifference, after twenty years of silence. And the cruelest twist? It was my own son who brought it back.
At twenty-five, I was wildly in love. Edwardtall, charming, full of laughterwas everything I dreamed of. We married quickly, and a year later, our son Thomas was born. Those early years were like a fairy tale. We lived in a small flat, dreaming together, making plans. I worked as a schoolteacher; he was an engineer. Nothing could touch our happiness.
But time changed him. He came home later, spun lies, grew distant. I tried to ignore the rumors, to pretend I didnt notice the unfamiliar perfume or the midnight absences. Then, one day, the truth was undeniable: he was unfaithful. Not once, but endlessly. Friends, neighbors, even my parentsthey all knew. And I, fool that I was, clung to saving our family. For Thomas. I endured too long, hoping hed come to his senses. Then, one night, I woke to an empty bed and realised I couldnt go on.
I packed my things, took five-year-old Thomas by the hand, and left for my mothers. Edward didnt even try to stop us. A month later, he moved abroadsupposedly for work. Soon, he found another woman and acted as if wed never existed. No letters, no calls. Absolute silence. I was alone. My mother passed, then my father. Thomas and I faced everything togetherschool, holidays, illnesses, graduation. I worked tirelessly so hed want for nothing. My own life? There wasnt one. He was my world.
When Thomas got into university in Manchester, I helped however I couldparcels, money, endless support. But a flat? I couldnt afford that. He never complained. Said hed manage. I was so proud.
Last month, he visited with news: he was getting married. My joy vanished when I saw his nervousness, the way he avoided my eyes. Then he said it:
“Mum I need your help. Its about Dad.”
I froze. He told me hed reconnected with Edward. That his father was back in England, offering him the keys to a two-bedroom flat inherited from his grandmother. Buton one condition. I had to remarry Edward and let him move into my home.
The air left my lungs. I stared, waiting for the punchline. He kept talking:
“Youre alone Youve no one. Why not try again? For me. For my future family. Dads changed”
I walked to the kitchen. The kettle, the tea, my shaking hands. The room blurred. Twenty years of carrying everything alone. Twenty years of his absence. And now thisa “proposition.”
I returned to the sitting room and said quietly, “No. I wont do it.”
Thomas exploded. Shouting, accusations. That Id always been selfish. That his fatherless childhood was my fault. That now I was ruining his life. I stayed silent. Each word cut deeper. He didnt know the sleepless nights. How I sold my wedding ring to buy him a winter coat. How I skipped meals so he could have meat.
Im not lonely. My life has been hard, but honest. I have my job, my books, my garden, my friends. I dont need a man who betrayed me, whos returned not for love but convenience.
Thomas left without a goodbye. He hasnt called. I know hes hurt. I understandhe wants whats best for him, just as I once did. But I wont trade my dignity for square footage. The price is too high.
Maybe one day hell understand. Maybe not soon. But Ill wait. Because I love him. Truly. No conditions, no flats, no “ifs.” I brought him into this world with love. Raised him with love. And I wont let that love become a bargaining chip.
As for my ex-husband? Let him stay in the past. Thats where he belongs.
