Chapter 28
AIDEN
Coming home is… well, like coming home.
All the mistakes, all the lies, they nearly cost me this . Watching my wife help me unpack. Not that there's much. Most of my stuff stayed here anyway. I wore the same few shirts on repeat if it meant not having to drag another bag of my shit out the door.
The boys are out with my in-laws. They went to the park. Too old for slides and swings, but they convinced their grandpa they missed it. I can’t wait to see their faces when they realize I’m not leaving again. That this is permanent.
And yes, I have, as some might say, embraced my new life as a homemaker.
Though I feel like I’m cheating a bit. The boys are full-blown teenagers, we have a housekeeper, no dog to walk or baby to rock at 2 a.m. So no, it’s not even remotely close to what Kate went through when they were born.
Not even close. If I could go back, there are so many things I’d do differently.
Not just… the cheating.
The only way I can describe cheating is… it’s like pressing a fire alarm.
When I was in middle school, I was obsessed with those buttons.
During Fire Safety Week, they showed us how you break the glass to hit the alarm.
I was fascinated. One day, I finally did it.
Pressed it. The moment I heard the sound, I panicked.
It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t exciting. It was regret, immediate, gut-wrenching regret.
So, I did what any little shit would do, I pretended I didn’t do it. Followed the crowd outside, stood in line like everyone else. Lied. They found out. That dye they put in the button casing? It turned my hand bright blue. Caught blue-handed.
That’s cheating.
It’s not sexy. It’s not thrilling. It’s a fire alarm. I was already drunk, raw from everything, and I pressed the glass. The moment she moaned in my ear, that woman who wasn’t my wife, I wanted to die.
I went to Kate. I wanted to confess. But I knew what I had to lose.
So, I did what I always did. Buried my head in the sand.
She wanted me to sit, I sat. She wanted to be the point person with the kids’ school, I let her.
I told myself I was doing it for her. But the truth is, I was doing it for me.
I avoided her because I knew. I knew if I looked her in the eye, I’d crack, she’d see it, and it would all be over. So, I pretended. Until I couldn’t pretend anymore.
Fucking Eli.
I never should’ve invited him to the party. I almost didn’t invite any of them. But I got nostalgic. Idiot. Thought maybe it would be nice to see the guys again. Laugh about stupid college shit. They were at the wedding, why shouldn’t they be at the ten-year celebration of it.
It’s not Eli’s fault. He just… told her. Blurted it out, while drunk. The fucker’s always been jealous. He wasn’t at fault. I’m the one who cheated. It took me a long time and a lot of therapy to realise that. I made the decision. They may have goaded me, but I let them. Me.
God, I wish I could take it back.
But that’s the thing about pressing the alarm, it doesn’t stop once it starts. You don’t get to un-pull it. You don’t get to take it back. All you can do is stand there in the noise you made and hope like hell the building doesn’t burn down.
Kate hasn’t forgiven me completely.
She says she’s trying. I believe her. But some nights we’ll be talking, just normal, easy conversation and then she’ll get this look in her eyes. Distant. Quiet. And I’ll know.
I’ll know she’s remembering what I did. What I broke. And I wish I could take it all from her. That look. The memory. The pain. But I can’t.
So, I just keep showing up.
I unpack my bag. I fold the laundry. I kiss between putting stuff away and tell her I love her even when her back’s turned. Especially when her back’s turned. Because I know what it took for her to let me come home.
And I’m not wasting it. Not this time.
Telling her, “I’m gonna go check on the lasagna.” I move to leave the room.
She laughs, the sound soft and warm. “You’re really enjoying this, huh?”
I grin, already halfway out the door. “If we had poopy babies, it might’ve been different.”
Her laugh follows me like music, echoing off the hallway walls. Smiling to myself, shake my head. Who would’ve thought I’d turn into this guy? Oven mitts and timers. Grocery lists and laundry rotations.
Opening the oven door, the smell of cheese and sauce hits my face as I peek in. Lasagna’s bubbling at the edges, cheese golden, sauce simmering just right. Not bad, I think. Not bad at all.
The front door creaks open and two sets of footsteps thunder in, loud, familiar. Both boys kick off their dirty sneakers by the door, their cheeks flushed from the heat outside.
“Hey, Dad,” they say, almost in unison, surprise flickering across their faces. “Mom have a trip?” Jack asks, tossing his cap on the table.
This past month, Kate’s had a few trips. They’ve simmered down, but she’s the new boss now, so the occasional travel is expected. When she’s gone, I stay at the house. But we’ve been careful, avoiding me staying when she’s home. We didn’t want to confuse the boys, didn’t want to rush things.
I wipe my hands on a kitchen towel and say, “Not quite. Sit down for a second.”
They both drop into chairs around the table, stealing glances at each other, at me. I sit too, rubbing my palms together before resting them flat against the surface.
“So,” I begin, heart thudding, “I asked your mom if I could come home. And… she said yes.”
They don’t react much. Not visibly. A blink. A nod. Alex picks at the corner of the placemat.
I clear my throat. “And I know she’s not the only one I’ve let down.
” I take a deep and steadying breath. “I’ve been going to therapy,” I continue.
“Trying to figure out where I went wrong, why I let my past come between me and the people who matter most. Your mom. You two. I’ve made a lot of mistakes.
And I know that just moving back in doesn’t erase them. ”
Their eyes flicker up at me now. A little guarded, but listening.
“This… me coming home… it’s not about going back to the way things were. I don’t want that. I want better. I want to be better. I promise you, starting now, I’m here. For your mom. For you. For real.”
The silence that follows isn’t cold. It’s heavy, thoughtful. Jack leans back, arms crossed. Alex bites his lip like he’s trying to decide if he wants to speak or not.
Then, finally, Jack says, “So, like… you’re really staying?”
I nod. “Yeah. For good.”
Alex shrugs, but there’s a smile tugging at his mouth. “Cool. But we still get the big TV on Saturdays.”
I laugh, choking back a wave of emotion. “Deal.”
Kate’s voice floats in from the hallway. “Safe to come in?”
She steps around the corner, eyes glassy but smiling. She heard. I can tell by the way she’s looking at me proudly, but holding something back. Relief maybe. Or just the weight of everything we’ve made it through.
“Yeah,” I say, standing up.
She walks over and without hesitation, steps right into my side. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
Finally, I'm home.