**December 24th**
*»Mum, someones at the door! Could you get it? Our hands are full,»* called Emily from the kitchen.
*»Of course,»* Natalie answered with a quiet smile to herself.
She opened the door without bothering to check the peephole. On Christmas Eve, it was usually carolerskids from the neighbourhoodso she expected to see a cheerful little face. Instead, her breath caught. Standing there was David, her ex-husband, looking at her like a kicked puppy, a duffel bag at his feet.
*»David,»* she managed, voice rough with surprise, *»what are you doing here?»*
He gave her a grin, too wide, too eager. Then he ducked his head, staring at his shoes. *»Hello, Nat. Missed you lot. Thought Id spend the holidays with my family.»* He moved to step inside, but she blocked him with a raised hand.
*»I didnt invite you in.»*
*»Oh, come off it. Im back! Isnt this what you wanted?»* He spread his arms like it was some grand homecoming.
*»Back? Just like that? What about the last eighteen monthsgone from your mind?»*
David scowled, and Natalie remembered the exact moment her heart had shatteredirrevocably, into pieces too small to mend.
Fifteen years ago, theyd married. A young couple in a rented flat in Manchester, scraping by but happy. They both worked, money wasnt tight, and a year later, the twins came alongOliver and Henry. Bright, rowdy lads who drained her energy but filled her heart.
Thirteen years flew by. The boys shot up, nearly her height now, but still her little scamps. David, thoughhe changed. Late nights, business trips, always buried in work. She told herself it was just the job.
Then, one evening at Tesco, she spotted him by the spirits aislesupposedly in Birmingham. Before she could call out, a young woman kissed his cheek and dropped something into his basket. Natalie froze, watching from behind a display. David pulled her close, whispered in her ear, made her laugh. Then they paid and left in his car.
She stood there, breathless with pain. Her whole life had just derailed. Still, some foolish hope made her dial his number.
*»Hello, love. Hows the trip?»* she asked, forcing lightness into her voice.
*»OhNat! Yeah, swamped here. Ill ring you later.»*
*»Right.»*
She finished shopping mechanically. At home, she cooked dinner, helped the boys with homework, tucked them in. Then she stared at her phone, lips dry. *»You promised youd call…»*
A week passed. Silence. When David was due back, she sent the boys to her mums. She waited at the kitchen table.
He burst in, laughing. *»No welcome party? No one missed their old dad?»*
*»Who is she, David?»*
He stiffened. *»Who?»*
*»I saw you. At Tesco. A week ago.»*
He sat across from her. *»Claire. From work.»*
*»How long?»*
*»Nearly a year.»* He sighed. *»Look, Nat, the house is chaoskids screaming, always sick. You never notice me. Claire… she gets me.»*
*»Im their mother first! They need me. Youre a grown manyou knew what this was!»*
*»Its dull here. Grey. Claire doesnt nag me to fix taps or hang shelves. Im in my primeI need someone who *sees* me. I dont love you anymore.»*
The words hung between them.
*»Fine. Youre bored. But the boyswhat about them?»*
*»Theyll manage. Alimony, weekends. I want *freedom*.»* He waved at their kitchen.
*»Itll destroy them. Stay. For them.»*
*»Im *done*! Im leaving. Were through.»*
She watched, numb, as he stuffed a bag and walked out.
Now, seeing that same bag at her door, Natalie almost laughed. He had no idea what the last eighteen months had been likethe boys crying, calling, getting no answer. Hed slashed his official salary to pennies, leaving her scrambling with extra shifts.
*»You said we were dull,»* she murmured.
*»I was wrong, love. Forgive me.»* He reached for her hand; she pulled away. *»You were my rock. Claire was just… a fling.»*
Noise from the hall. Oliver peeked out. *»Mum, whos?»*
Then Henry. *»Dad?»*
David brightened. *»Lads! Im back! Got presentslets celebrate!»* He stepped forward, but a firm hand gripped his shoulder.
*»Maybe next time, eh?»* Natalie smiled as she spotted him*her* Christopher. Tall, steady. David shrunk under his gaze while the boys rushed to hug Uncle Chris.
*»Stay?»* he murmured.
She shook her head, still smiling.
David finally found his voice. *»So thats it? Traded me for some bloke?»*
*»Not traded. *Chose* himwhen I was free.»* She held up her left hand. A wedding band glinted.
*»You *begged* me to come back!»*
*»Eighteen months ago, David. New chapter now. Happy Christmas.»*
She shut the door, locked it, took a deep breath, and walked into the warm light of the flatwhere her boys and her husband waited.
**Lesson learned: You cant rewrite the past, but you can choose who gets a place in your future.**
