The Night He Didn’t Come Home
870 Words
Gabriel returned from the grocery store carrying bags filled with Victoria’s favorites.
Fresh fruit. Crackers she liked. Soup ingredients. Things he remembered she used to crave when she was weak.
He moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, rolling up his sleeves, rinsing vegetables, setting a pot on the stove. From time to time, his eyes drifted toward the living room.
Victoria sat quietly on the couch.
Too quietly.
She wasn’t watching television. Wasn’t scrolling through her phone. She sat still, hands folded in her lap, eyes lowered, as if lost somewhere far away.
Something about her felt off today.
Gabriel frowned faintly but said nothing, convincing himself he was overthinking again.
Meanwhile, Victoria’s mind was racing.
Tomorrow.
She would leave tomorrow.
She needed to pack only what mattered—documents, clothes, a few personal items. Nothing else in this house was worth taking with her. She would disappear cleanly, without warning.
As she calculated silently, her phone vibrated.
A friend request.
She glanced at the screen, her breath catching.
The profile picture showed a little girl she recognized instantly.
Her fingers stiffened as she accepted.
Almost immediately, her phone exploded with notifications.
One photo. Then another. Then another.
Over a dozen images flooded her screen.
Children.
A little boy and a little girl.
Photos from birth, birthdays, first steps, first days of school. Every stage of their growth carefully recorded, lovingly preserved.
Victoria’s vision blurred.
She recognized them.
Especially the girl.
Sandra.
Gabriel’s daughter.
A message followed.
Victoria, I’ll be direct. I’m Prisca Edward.
These are my children with Gabriel. This is my daughter. She’s four. This is my son. He’s six.
You’ve been married for eight years. Our son is six. You can figure out the rest yourself.
Victoria’s fingers trembled.
Another message appeared.
Gabriel loves us. If not for you, our family wouldn’t be torn apart. You’re the home wrecker, Victoria.
Her chest tightened.
Do you know how he describes you? Arrogant, Spoiled and Boring.
Victoria’s ears rang.
I’m the one who satisfies him. I’m the one who drives him crazy.
Can you imagine how compatible we are?
Her stomach turned violently.
when you were hospitalized, he came to me every day.
I’m the one he truly loves.
Victoria stared at the screen, unable to blink.
I told him I wanted to move into your parents’ house. He agreed.
I found your hidden cameras.
Her blood ran cold.
The final message came slowly, and deliberately.
I hope you enjoyed the videos.
I hope you’re satisfied now.
The room felt too small.
In the kitchen, Gabriel stirred the pot, unaware that every lie he had ever told was collapsing behind him.
Victoria lowered her phone.
Her face was calm.
Too calm.
The pain was still there—but beneath it, something colder had settled in.
Prisca thought she had won.
But Victoria finally understood something clearly.
This was no longer about love.
It was about survival.
And she would not lose.
Victoria’s breathing grew uneven.
Years of medication had left her body fragile, unable to withstand shocks like this. Her fingers dug into the couch as she forced herself to stay upright.
Prisca wanted her dead.
Victoria wouldn’t give her that victory.
Her phone vibrated again.
I know you saw the messages.
If you’re still clinging on, I’ll show you who he really cares about.
Victoria didn’t reply.
At that moment, Gabriel’s phone rang.
She glanced toward the kitchen.
Gabriel frowned at the screen, then answered.
“Hello? Thompson?”
A pause. His expression changed.
“What? Okay. I’m coming. Wait for me.”
He turned off the stove, pulled off his apron, and grabbed his jacket.
“Sweetheart,” he said quickly, already moving toward the door. “I’m sorry. Urgent company business. I’ll cook when I’m back. Rest for now.”
The words barely settled before the door slammed shut.
Victoria’s phone buzzed again.
See, Victoria? One word from me and he drops you.
Every ‘urgent company matter’ is me.
Today I just said his daughter had a fever. Look how fast he ran.
Haha. I bet you can’t relate.
Victoria trembled.
Rage burned through her veins, hot and violent. She stared at the half-prepared meal in the kitchen, tears streaming down her face.
She hadn’t eaten all day.
Yet nausea twisted her stomach.
Midnight came.
Gabriel didn’t return.
Victoria walked into the kitchen and threw everything away—the vegetables, the meat, the carefully chosen ingredients.
She never ate leftovers.
And a man already used by another woman was beneath her notice.
In eight years of marriage, Gabriel had never stayed out all night.
Until now.
At three in the morning, another message arrived.
A photo.
Gabriel asleep in Prisca’s arms. His body relaxed, unguarded—something Victoria hadn’t seen in years.
He went all night and just fell asleep.Can you satisfy him like this, Victoria?
You don’t deserve him. Boring woman.
Victoria set her phone down.
She didn’t scream.
She didn’t cry.
She simply continued sorting—deciding what to discard and what to leave behind.
She didn’t sleep.
By five in the morning, the house no longer held anything that belonged to her.
If she was leaving—
She would vanish completely.
- Writer
