Richard stepped into the house and closed the door behind him, letting the quiet settle around him like a blanket he was only just steady enough to hold. The hallway was dim and still. The children's coats hung neatly by the stairs, untouched since the afternoon, small reminders of the life pulsing quietly through the walls. The house felt lived in, warm, safe. A real home. The thought stirred an ache low in his chest, a tender regret for all the years when it had not felt like this at all.
He slipped off his coat and hung it up, then ran a tired hand through his hair. The weight of the evening pressed against his ribs, heavy with the echo of Eleanor's unexpected appearance and the things she had said. He exhaled slowly and made his way up the stairs.
He knocked on Chloe's door first, gentle but firm. "It's me, sweetheart. I'm home."
The door opened almost instantly. Chloe's eyes were wide and bright, worry tucked behind her composure.
"Dad, Mum was here. She was outside."
Her voice tightened just a little. "Did you see her?"
Richard nodded. "I did."
She searched his face. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he said softly. "Are you?"
Chloe lifted her chin slightly and glanced toward her brother's room.
"I'm fine. But Drew… I think you should talk to him."
Richard touched her arm in thanks, then moved to the next door. He knocked gently.
"Drew? Can I come in?"
There was a pause, then the door opened. Drew didn't look at him for more than a second. He returned to his gaming console, the flicker of the screen casting pale light across his face.
Richard stepped inside and sat on the edge of the bed, hands loosely folded.
"I know your mum was just here," he said quietly.
"I saw her."
Drew shrugged, eyes staying on the screen.
"Are you alright?" Richard asked.
Another shrug, a little tighter this time.
Richard did not push. He let the silence settle between them, quiet and unhurried, remaining there with a steady presence that asked for nothing. Minutes drifted by, marked only by the soft taps of the controller and the low glow of the screen.
Then Drew spoke, his voice quiet, as if the words had gathered slowly and grown too heavy to hold any longer.
"Do I have to see her?"
Richard's heart tightened with quiet ache.
"No," he said gently. "I would never ask you to do that if you didn't want to."
Drew's hands stilled. The character on the screen froze with them.
"I've been thinking about it a lot." His voice was low, almost cautious.
"And I don't think I want to."
Richard stayed still, giving him space.
"I don't remember ever feeling like she loved me," Drew continued, eyes still fixed on the unmoving game.
"I always felt like there was this big space between us. Like she was far away even when she was right there. I never felt comfortable with her. I never felt like I could be myself."
The words struck deep. Richard swallowed against the ache that rose sharp and sudden. No child should ever have to feel that
Drew blinked hard.
"And I know about the affair."
Richard's breath caught. He stared at his son, stunned.
"How?"
Drew's shoulders lifted, fell.
"I came home from school early once. My plans changed. My friend got sick so I came home instead. I heard laughing from your bedroom and I just… knew it was not you."
He swallowed, eyes fixed on the screen in front of him even though the game had long been forgotten.
"I hid in my room. Later I sat on the stairs and listened. When the man left, she kissed him at the door."
Richard felt something inside him split, quiet but devastating, as if a hand had closed around his heart and pressed until it hurt to breathe. It ached in a way that cut deeper than the day he found Eleanor in their bed with another man.
"Drew," he said quietly.
"I'm so sorry you were ever in that position. That must have hurt very much."
Drew shrugged again, but this one was shaky. He swiped at his eyes quickly, as if hoping his father wouldn't notice.
Richard rose and crossed the room. He wrapped his arms around him, holding him with careful strength.
"Everything is going to be alright," he whispered.
"We will be alright. You never have to wonder about how much I love you."
Drew nodded against him. His voice came out small.
"I know. I'm glad I have one real parent."
Richard closed his eyes and breathed through the ache.
"You will always have me. Both of you will. You're my priority. Always."
After a long moment he pulled back gently.
"Have you eaten?"
"I wasn't hungry."
"You need to eat something," Richard said softly.
"Come on. Choose something. Order whatever you want."
He stepped out to call Chloe into Drew's room. The children chose what to order and he excused himself to wash up while they placed the order.
In the quiet of his bedroom, Richard leaned against the edge of his dresser and lowered his head. A dull ache pressed into him. He hadn't been home when Eleanor appeared. The children had faced her alone. And while they had, he had been out with Helene… enjoying himself. Feeling peaceful. Feeling hopeful.
Guilt and longing pulled in opposite directions inside him.
He wanted to keep seeing Helene. He wanted it more than he knew how to say. But he had promised the children would come first.
He rubbed a hand over his face. "I'll figure it out later," he murmured to himself.
He washed up and went downstairs just as the food arrived.
They ate a late dinner together at the dining table. Drew and Chloe teased each other, laughing in the easy way siblings did when the worst of the storm had passed. Richard watched them, relief loosening the tension in his chest. Drew was smiling again.
After they ate, Richard pulled Chloe gently into the kitchen. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.
"I'm fine." She nodded and smiled at him.
He touched her shoulder.
"Thank you for being strong for your brother."
She smiled, a little embarrassed. "I'm his big sister. Of course I'll look after him."
He pulled her into a hug and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I could burst with how proud I am of you."
"Stop being soft," she muttered, pushing him away with playful affection. They both laughed, and after wishing him goodnight she headed upstairs.
Richard sat alone in the living room for a while, the house quiet and still around him. Eventually he reached for his phone.
He typed slowly, thoughtfully.
"Thank you for letting me spend the day with you. I truly enjoyed your company. I hope we can spend time together again soon."
The reply came a few minutes later. He could almost hear her gentle voice in the words.
"I had a lovely time. Everything felt easy. It was good to just talk. And thank you again for the scarf. I love it."
He felt warmth settle in his chest.
"Goodnight, Helene," he wrote.
"Goodnight, Richard."
He set his phone down and leaned back, letting the quiet wrap around him. The day had been long and complicated, but somewhere beneath everything was the steady glow of something beginning.
Something gentle. Something he did not want to lose.