I’m happy to say that the second year after Anna left was much different. I landed a freelance coding project, and the client was so impressed with my abilities that he offered me a full-time remote position with his cybersecurity firm.
The pay wasn’t six figures, but it was solid. We moved to a cozier apartment, and I started taking care of myself again.
I hit the gym, cooked real meals, and created a routine for the kids. We weren’t just surviving anymore; we were thriving.
And then, exactly two years to the day Anna left, I saw her again.
I was at a café near our new place, catching up on work while Max and Lily were at preschool. The smell of roasted beans filled the air, and the soft hum of conversations made it a good place to focus.
I didn’t expect to look up and see her.
She was sitting alone at a corner table, her head down, while tears streamed down her face.
She didn’t look like the woman I remembered, the polished, confident marketing executive with designer clothes and perfect hair.
No, this woman looked… worn. Her coat was faded, her hair dull, and the dark circles under her eyes told a story of sleepless nights.
For a moment, my heart clenched. This was the woman who abandoned us at our lowest.
She had left to make a better life for herself without a jobless husband and twins to take care of, right?
That’s what I’d assume from her cold, short sentence back then.
We were burdens to her, and she wanted more.
So, what happened? Why was she crying at a random trendy coffee shop? I knew I shouldn’t care.
I should ignore her, finish my drink, and leave immediately. But she was, after all, the mother of my children.
Unlike her, I wasn’t heartless. I… still seemed to care.
She must have sensed my stare because she looked up.
Her eyes met mine, and her expression shifted from shock to shame.
I could’ve stayed in place, but my body moved before I even had time to consider it. Leaving my cup and laptop on the table, I walked toward the woman who had broken our home.
“Anna,” I said, clearing my throat. “What happened?”
Her eyes darted around as if searching for an escape.
But there was none. “David,” she whispered, fidgeting with her hands. “I… I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Clearly,” I said, pulling out the chair across from her.
“You left us. You walked out without any remorse. And now, two years later, I find you crying in a café?
What’s going on?”
She looked down at the table, her fingers twisting until her knuckles turned white. “I made a mistake,” she finally said, exhaling loudly as if making a horrible and shameful confession.
I leaned back, crossing my arms. “A mistake?
You think leaving your husband and kids was just a mistake?”
Her head shook as her eyes filled with fresh tears. “I know it’s not just a mistake. But I thought I… I thought I could do better on my own.
It was all too much. The bills and not knowing how to survive. My money wasn’t enough for the life we’d led.”
“I know,” I nodded.
“I thought I could find a more fulfilling life, a better career… a better… I don’t know.”
“A better man?” I suggested.
Her head shook again.
“No, no. I can’t explain it, but leaving you was so wrong. I lost my job almost immediately after.
I survived on my savings; my parents sent me some money, but they cut me off after a few months. The people I thought were my friends disappeared when I needed them most.”
I stared as she began sobbing. My emotions were all over the place.
I felt a small sense of vindication, as karma had acted almost immediately, but I also felt pity and hurt. We could have gone through this together and emerged much stronger if she had believed in me… in our family.
“I miss you,” she croaked, sniffling. “I want to come back.”
I let her words hang in the air.
Because no matter how bad I felt for her, I knew why she was saying those words.
“You miss me now that you have nothing,” I said as calmly as I could. “Convenient timing, don’t you think?”
Anna reached across the table, her hand hovering near mine. “David, please.
I know I don’t deserve it, but I’ll do anything to make it right. I’ve been living in cheap apartments, hopping from one temp job to another. I’ve had time to think.
I realize now what I lost.”
I pulled my hand back. “You didn’t think about Max and Lily, did you? Not once in two years.
In fact, you haven’t even mentioned them since I sat down.”
The more I thought of it, the more disgusted I felt.
She flinched like I’d slapped her. “I thought about them too,” she whispered. “I just… I was ashamed.
I didn’t know how to come back.”
I shook my head. “You made your choice, Anna. We’ve built a life without you.
And it’s a good one. The kids are happy. I’m happy.”
“I’ll do anything,” she repeated desperately.
“Please, David. Just give me a chance.”
I stood, turning my back to her. “No,” I said.
“You made this decision. Despite what you’ve gone through, I see you haven’t reflected. You’re just worried about yourself.
My kids need someone who’ll put them first.”
I returned to my table, snatched up my laptop, and made for the exit. The bell above the door jingled sharply as I pushed through it, but not before Anna’s sobs echoed through the quiet café.
That evening at dinner, I marveled at how much Max and Lily meant to me. My son was telling a story about a worm he found at school, and my daughter proudly showed me a picture she’d drawn.
“Daddy, look!
It’s us at the park,” Lily said, handing me the drawing.
I smiled. “It’s perfect, sweetheart.”
Anna had given this up and ended up with nothing.
But after tucking the kids to bed and going to my own room, I considered the consequences of walking away from their mother. A part of me knew that having her back in their lives could be beneficial in the long run.
Maybe, if she reached out and asked about them in the future, I would let her see them.
If I could witness real change in her, though. For now, I had to protect them.
You might think that kids as young as mine don’t notice things, but they do. Yet, they are resilient as long as they know someone will always be there.
I saw it in their laughter, in their easy affection. Therefore, our chapter with Anna was closed.
But life takes turns. I would focus on giving my children the secure, loving home they deserved and wait…
Source: amomama
