The Night He Came Home

The knock startled me. I ignored the sound because it was late...far too late for visitors; it may just have been my imagination. I was not expecting anybody. The twins were already asleep, and the house was very quiet. Then the knock came again. This time, slow and firm. As I walked to the door slowly, my heart beat faster. Thomas—who was meant to protect us—had left the house for days without saying anything. No calls. No messages. Nothing. With the guard chain in place, I cracked the door open slightly—and the moment I saw him standing there, I froze. Thomas. My husband looked so calm . Looking as if he had just stepped outside for a few minutes and had not disappeared for days. “Thomas…” I whispered... He smiled. It was a warm and kind smile — the same smile I fell in love with when we first met. It wasn’t the "you have to be polite so smile" he’d been using with me for years. Without saying a word, he walked into the house and passed by me. I rolled my eyes and sighed under my breath, and closed the door behind him My mind filled up with questions- Where had he gone off to? Why had he not answered nor return my calls? Why was he suddenly here now? As I turned around, he was standing just behind me. Too close. For a moment, we only looked at each other. Then he reached for me. Everything happened very quickly. One moment I was standing still, and the next moment he pulled me toward him. I tried to get out of his reach and stepped back until my back touched the door. The cool wood pressed against my shoulders as my heart began to race. “Thomas—” I began. But when his lips touched mine, I forgot what I wanted to say. The kiss was strong and almost desperate. It surprised me. For months, Thomas had hardly touched me. Talking between us had become brief and practical. Many nights he came home very late, and sometimes he did not come home at all. Even when he was home, his mind always seemed to be somewhere or with someone else. And now this. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me close. My mind told me to stop him. But my body wanted him. It had been six months. Six months...of feeling lonely. Six months... since my husband had looked at me like this. Six months.. of quiet dinners, short conversations, and long nights lying beside a man who felt like a stranger. His strong arousal was pressed against me; my body knew the feeling too well and had missed it so much. Gosh! A shiver moved through me and a quiet warmth followed close behind. His cologne, mixed with the faint scent of his skin, drifted toward me. The soft sound of his breathing near my ear pulled at something deep inside me — memories I had pushed away came drifting back. Late nights talking about nothing and everything. Laughter that filled the room without reason. The easy comfort we once had with each other. The feeling of safety I used to find simply by being near him. For a moment, I made myself pretend.... it was real again. Pretend.... everything was still the same. Pretend.... the gap between us wasn’t getting bigger. His hands were not too gentle along my arms, digging into my hair, unravelling my bun, as if trying to pull me back to a place where we were still committed to each other. But it was not; something inside me felt very uneasy and sad. Why now? Why after months of silence? Why, after the tears and begging for his attention? Why, after keeping silent on every message I had sent? The moment ended almost as fast as it had started. Thomas moved back without a word and pulled his pants up. I pulled down my nightgown and stood straight. His countenance shifted again. The light in his eyes slowly disappeared, and the calm distance I was used to returned. I searched his face, waiting for an explanation from him. To say something. Anything. But he didn’t. And deep down, the truth came to me and settled quietly in my chest. Whatever had just happened…hadn’t fixed anything. Not really, not at all. The next morning, he had left. Again. No explanation. No farewell, no goodbye. Nothing but silence. I stood at the front door, with teary eyes, and my heart hurting from pain and betrayal once again. The man I married had left. Thomas had returned after seven months… and left again like we meant nothing. And maybe… I had been holding desperately onto something that no longer existed.