She Ran Away for Good — Did you stand up to him again? — her mother asked as she unpacked shopping bags. — Alya, when will you learn some sense? Sergei is a decent man, handsome, hardworking, he never cheats. He may have a temper, but it’s because he shoulders all the responsibility. You should put your pride aside. — Mum, he hit me. Because I mentioned nursery. You think that’s normal? — Oh, here we go again! — her mother threw up her hands. — What a tragedy. Back in my day, they disciplined kids with the reins, and families were strong. Look how he loves you! Goes out of his way for you, brings you everywhere. Where else are you going to find someone like him? With a child in tow? Who do you think wants you? Alya stood at the cooker, stirring the fourth dish of the evening. Soup boiled in one pot, meat sizzled in the pan, a pie baked in the oven, and in a saucepan, she wrestled with a tricky gravy Sergei insisted must be the perfect consistency—“so a spoon stands up but doesn’t fall over.” Sweat dripped down her face, stray hair stuck to her cheeks, but Alya didn’t dare step away even for a minute. The TV blasted in the living room, volume maxed—Sergei couldn’t stand silence, he said it messed with his head. Her son slept in the back room, and Alya constantly listened out for the sound of crying if the laughter track from the telly got too loud. Her husband slipped into the kitchen as quietly as a cat. He hugged her from behind, making Alya jump. — Smells delicious, — he murmured into her hair. — My little homemaker. Tired? Alya froze, spoon clamped in her fist. At moments like these, he was the man she’d married three years ago: gentle, caring, dependable. But… — I am tired, Sergei. Maybe it’s time we think about nursery? Lenka’s old enough now, he needs friends. And I’d like to go back to work… Instantly, his arms dropped. — This again? We’ve talked about this. He went for a week—sick for a month. Do you not care about our boy? Or do you just want to ditch him so you can sit in an office? — Sergei, all children get ill at first… That’s just adapting. The doctor says— — I don’t give a toss what your doctors say, — he cut her off. — I said nursery can wait till next year. Do you hear me? Or do you think you know better than me? — I just want my own money, — Alya turned, searching his face. — To develop myself—not stay at the stove all day. The slap sounded sharper than the sizzle of meat. Alya staggered into the sink, banging her hip on the cupboard—her ears ringing. — Oh, you want your own money? — Sergei hissed, looming over her. — I support you, buy you clothes, bring you presents. What else could you want? You’ve got it too good! Alya stayed silent, pressing her palm to her burning cheek. She knew that look. Now wasn’t the time to argue—every word only meant more bruises. — Sit and eat, — he barked, dropping into a chair. — And don’t let me hear another word about work. You’re a wife and mother. That’s your place. * The next day, Alya’s mum arrived, apples from the garden and a new barrage of lectures in tow. Noticing the faint swelling on her daughter’s cheek, which Alya had tried to hide with concealer, her mother started up again about how a wife must obey. — I want a divorce, — Alya said quietly, cutting her off. Her mum froze, apple in hand. — Have you gone mad? Need me to call the crisis team? You’re losing your mind, girl! Do you have any idea what you’re saying? You walk out of this house, you’re not coming back. You hear me? Don’t even think about it. Put up with it, like everyone else! A memory of the shopping centre flashed in Alya’s mind—six months ago, Sergei had left her by the entrance to a children’s shop to go smoke. A hulking man bumped into Alya, knocking her to the tiles in her heels. Instead of apologising, he’d shouted at her for being in the way. Sergei had appeared out of nowhere. She’d never seen him like that before—he didn’t just defend her, he’d attacked the man with an animal rage. Security had to pull them apart. Afterwards, Sergei picked up his trembling wife: — I’m sorry, sweetheart, forgive me for leaving you alone. I’d kill anyone who hurt you. Back then, Alya thought that was true love—huge, overwhelming. Now she couldn’t understand how one person could be both knight in shining armour and the brute who’d kick her for placing a chair wrong, or making him cold coffee. The “knight” had vanished these past four months. Now Sergei could shout at her in the supermarket queue, call her names in front of strangers just for taking too long to find her card. — You idiot, Alya, — he barked, grabbing the bags. — You really need your head checked. How do I even live with someone like you? * A thread to the outside world remained—Lida, a distant cousin in London. They spoke secretly—Alya phoned when Sergei was out. — Drop everything, Alya, — Lida urged. — My husband runs a restaurant, I need a reliable manager. You’re smart, you’re a quick thinker, you look great. I’ll rent you a flat for the first couple of months, pay for private nursery for Lenka. Come stay! — Lida, I’m scared. He said he’ll never let me go. He’ll kill me before that… — Alya mumbled. — He’s just scaring you so you don’t run. He knows you’d be a free woman without him. He needs a victim. Come on, is this a life? Stove, tears, and slaps? You dreamed of fitness, books… Do you remember how you used to laugh? Alya remembered. Every night before sleep, she closed her eyes and imagined: morning, she walks along a London street, taking her son to nursery. No one shouting, no one deciding what she should eat or what to watch. She goes to the gym, gets fit, reads what she wants—not what Sergei approves. But every time she opened her eyes and saw her husband asleep beside her, her resolve melted. She still loved him. The old version of him. A tiny hope flickered that it was just a “rough patch,” that if she waited a bit longer and tried harder, maybe he’d be kind again. * Sunday afternoon, another argument—Alya didn’t speak sweetly enough to his mum on the phone. Her husband kicked her in the ribs as she bent down to pick up her son’s toy. Sparks flew behind her eyes. While she recovered, he left, slamming the door. Returned that evening with a huge bouquet of lilies. — What are you sulking for? — he said, coming over as she put their son to bed. — I apologised, didn’t I? Look at these. Flowers for the lady, peace for the house. Come on? He started dragging her to bed. Alya went cold—she knew he’d start demanding affection. The thought of his touch made her sick. — Sergei, not now! My side hurts, I can hardly breathe. He went red, slapped her again, then smiled: — Well fine, if you won’t, someone else will. Can’t leave a spot empty, can you. She didn’t sleep that night. Listening to Sergei clattering in the kitchen, fridge door banging, him swapping muted voice messages. In the morning, he acted like nothing happened—frying eggs, whistling a tune. — Lenka, up you get! Breakfast ready, mate! Alya walked into the kitchen, silent. Her husband slapped her on the backside as she passed. — What’s up with the long face? — My ribs hurt, Sergei, — she whispered, lowering herself onto a chair. — Oh’ll get over it, stop making things up. You walked into my hand, that’s all. He tossed the spatula into the sink, then came over, tilting her chin. — If you’re planning on playing the wounded queen any longer, remember—I’ll get bored of that real quick. I wasn’t joking yesterday. I’m a strong, healthy man. If I come home to a misery guts, I’ll find fun elsewhere. Got it? Alya nodded. — That’s more like it. My mum’s stopping by soon, she’s got some plants for you. Put yourself together so she doesn’t start asking why you look so pale. Sergei left the room. Lenka sat poking his porridge, staring at his mum with wide, all-seeing eyes, and Alya’s heart clenched. He sees everything… Would he grow up to be the same kind of bully? * Half an hour later, her mother-in-law arrived. Alya got it in the neck, again. — Alya, why’s the hallway so mucky? — she squinted at the lino. — Sergei works hard, he shouldn’t come home to dirt. — I was late putting Lenka to bed, didn’t get to it, — Alya tried to smile. — “Didn’t get to it,” — her mother-in-law mimicked, dumping muddy plants on the table. — Lazy, ungrateful girl. My son’s given his life for you, all for your family. A proper wife would worship him, and you sulk. Sergei told me you mentioned divorce again. — He complained to you? — Yes, he said you don’t appreciate him. Where would you go, eh? Who wants a woman with baggage? Your mum’s right—men don’t put up with this. Have you seen yourself? Only Sergei’d put up with you. — Mum, stop it, — Sergei entered, hugged his mother, winked at his wife. — She’s just got a creative spirit, she’ll kick off and then calm down. So, what about those plants? Let’s see them on the balcony. They left, loudly discussing tomatoes; Alya stood by the table. Muddy water spread on the tablecloth. She got out her phone, hands shaking. “Lida, hi. I’m in. When should I come?” Reply came in a minute: “Just go, if you can. I’ll buy your tickets. Waiting for you. DON’T tell him anything.” Alya tucked her phone away. A plan began to form. — Alya! — Sergei yelled from the balcony. — What are you daydreaming for? Make mum a coffee. And me, too. — Coming, — she said. — Just coming. She played the perfect wife all day: scrubbed the floors, laughed at her husband’s bad jokes. He was pleased. He started his “surprises” again: chocolates and cinema tickets for the weekend. — See, — he pulled her close, ignoring her flinch, — I can be a good husband when you don’t wind me up. Forget the past. We’re family. She waited until he was asleep. Then she packed up Lenka’s rucksack—just essentials. Left her own things; Lida said she’d buy what they needed. Just take the documents. She bundled her sleeping son in a blanket, called a taxi. At the door, Lenka woke up. — Mummy? Where are we going? — he whispered, rubbing his eyes. — Shh, love. We’re going on an adventure. A big train ride. Want to come? — Yes, — he nodded, arms out. At three in the morning, they left. For good. *** Sergei searched hard, but never found her in the city. With her cousin’s help, Alya started a new life. She even managed divorce—the solicitor sorted everything. Sergei remarried quickly, and Alya felt sorry for the next woman. Men like her ex never change…

Author John SmithReading 11 minViews 2Published by January 20, 2026

Gone for Good

Did you contradict him again? my mother asked as she unpacked the shopping bags. Emily, when are you going to wise up? Davids a good man, hardworking, doesnt run around. Hes hot-tempered, sure, but thats because he bears all the responsibility. You really ought to swallow your pride.

Mum, he raised his hand at me. All because I mentioned nursery for Oscar. Do you think thats normal?

Oh, here we go again! Mum threw up her hands. As if its a tragedy! Back in my day, we were disciplined with a strap, and families were better for it. Look how much he loves you! He looks after you, takes you everywhere. Where else are you going to find someone like thatwith a child in tow, no less? Whos going to want you?

I stood stirring the fourth dish of the evening. Soup was simmering in the pot, meat crackled in the pan, a pie was in the oven, and a rich gravy was bubbling away in the saucepanDavid insisted it had to be the precise thickness: So a spoon doesnt sink, but it wont stand upright either.

Sweat beaded my brow, stray strands of hair clung to my face, but I darent step away for a second.

The television blared from the living roomDavid hated silence, said it did his head in.

Oscar was asleep in the back bedroom, and with every sitcom laugh track, I listened for his cry.

David entered the kitchen without a sound, moving like a cat. He hugged me from behind, and I jumped.

Smells delicious, he murmured into my hair. My little homemaker. You tired out?

I froze, still gripping the spoon. In those moments, he seemed like the man Id married three years agogentle, caring, dependable. But

I am, David. Maybe we should think about nursery? Oscars not a baby anymorehe needs other children, and I could go back to work

He immediately dropped his arms.

Again? Weve talked about this. He went for a week and was ill for a month. Dont you care about your sons health? Or do you just want to go and warm an office chair?

David, all kids get sick at firstits normal, theyre adapting. Doctors say

I dont care what your doctors say, he snapped. I said nursery can wait till next year. Are you not listening? Or do you think you know better than me?

I just want my own money. I turned, trying to look him in the eye. I want to grow as a person, not just stand at the stove.

The smack drowned out the sizzling of meat. I staggered into the sink, pain shooting through my hip. Ears ringing.

You want your own money, is that it? he hissed, stepping toward me. I keep you, I clothe you, I bring you gifts. What more do you want? Whats eaten you up now?

I stayed silent, holding my burning cheek. I knew that lookarguing would only end with fresh bruises.

Sit. Eat, he snapped, taking his seat at the table. And I dont want to hear any more about work. Youre a wife and mother. This is where you belong.

***

The next day, my mother came by. She brought a bag of apples from her garden and another round of wisdom.

She glanced at the faint swelling on my cheekbonemeticulously covered with makeupand launched into another speech about how a wife should be obedient.

I want a divorce, I whispered.

She froze, apple in hand.

Have you lost your mind? Need your head checked, do you? Do you even know what youre saying? If you walk out on that house, dont bother coming to mine. Do you hear me? Dont even think about it. You put up with it, like everyone does!

A memory surfaced of what happened at the shopping centre half a year ago.

David had stepped outside for a smoke, leaving me by the childrens shop entrance. Some big man hurried past, knocked me aside with his shoulder, and Id stumbled in my heels, hitting the tiled floor.

Instead of apologising, the man shouted at me for being in the bloody way.

David appeared from nowhere. Id never seen him like thathe didnt just stand up for me, he went for the bloke with animal rage.

He shook the man until security pulled them apart. Then he came to me, trembling with fury, picked me up in his arms:

Sorry, love, sorry I left you by yourself. Id tear anyone apart for youanyone at all.

Back then, I believed this was true lovehuge, all-consuming.

But now, I couldnt make sense of how that knight in shining armour lived in the same body as the brute who could kick me for moving a chair or serving cold coffee.

In the last four months, the knight had vanished.

Now David thought nothing of shouting at me in the supermarket queue, calling me names in front of strangers if I took too long finding my card.

Youre useless, Emily, hed bark, snatching the bags from me. You really need help. How am I even living with you?

***

My only thread to the outside world was Lisa, a distant cousin from London. We spoke only in secret, whenever David was out.

Drop everything, Em! Lisa would rattle down the phone. Marks got a restaurant, and I need a reliable manager. Youre clever, talkative, you look great. Ill rent you a flat the first few months, put Oscar in private nursery. Come up!

Lis, Im scared. He said hed never let me go. Hed ratherwellhurt me than let me leave, I mumbled.

Thats just his way to keep you trapped. Because without him, youre free, and all he wants is a victim. Listen, whats your life there anyway? Stove, tears, and slaps? You used to dream of the gym, of books! Remember how you used to laugh?

I remembered. Every night I closed my eyes and pictured it: morning in London, walking Oscar down the street to nursery.

No one yelling, no one telling me what to eat or what to watch. I go to a fitness class, get back in shape, read whatever I wantnot whatever David approves.

But when I opened my eyes and saw him sleeping beside me, my resolve vanished. I still loved him, or who he used to be.

Some flicker of hope stayed alive: maybe this was just a rough patch, maybe if I tried a little harder, became perfect, hed go back to being kind.

***

Sunday afternoon, we fought againthis time because I wasnt sweet enough on the phone to his mum.

As I bent to pick up Oscars toy, David walked past and kicked me in the side. White sparks flashed behind my eyes.

By the time I got up, he had stormed out, slamming the door behind him. That evening, he returned carrying a huge bouquet of lilies.

Whats that face for? he asked when Id just got Oscar to bed. I apologised, didnt I? Look at thesebeautiful, arent they? Flowers for the lady, peace for the home. Come on, then.

He started pulling me to the bedroom. I went coldmore clumsy groping, more demands for affection. I couldnt even bear to touch him.

David, please, no. My body aches, I can barely breathe.

He turned crimson, slapped me again, then grinned:

Well, if you dont want me, someone else will. No shortage of girls in this world.

I didnt sleep a wink. I listened to him crashing about in the kitchen, heard fridge doors banging and his low voice as he muttered to someone on the phone.

By morning, he acted as if nothing had happened. He fried eggs, whistled a tune.

Oscar, up you get! Breakfasts ready, lad!

I stepped into the kitchen silently. As I walked past him, he slapped me on the bum.

Whats with the long face?

My side hurts, David, I said quietly, sitting down.

Dont be soft. You just got in the way.

He tossed the spatula in the sink, came over and lifted my chin.

If you keep acting like a sulky queen, rememberIll soon lose patience. I wasnt joking last night. Im a young, healthy bloke. If you mope around, Ill find someone else. Got it?

I nodded.

Thats better. My mums on her way up; shes brought you some plants or something. Clean yourself up, so she doesnt start grilling me about why you look so pale.

David went to the other room. Oscar poked his porridge with a spoon, watching me with his big, solemn eyes. Dread clenched at my heart. He sees it all… What if he grows up just the same?

***

Half an hour later, my mother-in-law arrived, andonce againI got a telling off.

Emily, whys the hall floor filthy? she squinted at the linoleum. David works hard all day; why should he come home to this?

I was up late with Oscar, just didnt get to it, I tried to smile.

You didnt get to it, did you? she mimicked, dropping muddy roots straight onto the table. Youre a lazy ungrateful girl, Emily. My sons put his life into this home, done everything for you, for both of you. Another woman would wash his feet and drink the water. You just sulk.

She shot me a look. He says you mentioned divorce again.

He told you?

He says you dont appreciate him. Where will you go, eh? Whos going to want you and your baggage? Your mothers rightnonsense, all of it. Look at yourself: bags under your eyes, drawn face. Only David would ever put up with you.

Alright, Mum, leave her be, David said, squeezing her shoulder and sending me a wink. Shes just got an artistic temperamenthas a tantrum, calms down. Now, what about those plants? Show me on the balcony.

They left, loudly discussing tomatoes. I stared at the muddy ring on the tablecloth. My hands shook as I took out my mobile.

Lisa, hi. Im in. Whens best to come?

A reply pinged instantly:

Come as soon as you can. Ill get the tickets. Just dont tell him anything.

I hid the phone in my pocket. My mind began reeling through the plan.

Emily! David shouted from the balcony. Why are you standing about? Make Mum some tea, and me too.

Coming! I called, bright as ever.

All day, I played the perfect wifefloors gleaming, jokes faked, praise for his every word. He was pleased.

He even brought me chocolates and cinema tickets for the weekend.

See? he hugged me, ignoring my trembling as my ribs ached. I can be decent, as long as you dont get on my nerves. Lets forget it all. Were a family.

That night, I waited for him to sleep. Then I packed a small bag for Oscar: only essentials. I didnt pack anything for myselfLisa offered to buy everything. Only the documents mattered.

I wrapped my sleeping son in a blanket, called a cab. As we stood at the door, Oscar woke up.

Mummy? Where are we going? he whispered, rubbing his eyes.

Shh, darling. Were going on an adventure. On a big train. Would you like that?

Yes, he nodded, sleepily reaching for me.

At three in the morning, we left. For good.

***

David searched for us for ages, but never found his way to the capital.

My cousin did everything she couldmy new life began. I even managed the divorce; her solicitor handled it all.

David remarried quickly, and, honestly, I pitied his new wife. Men like my ex never change…