Move to Your ‘Own Territory’ – Declared the Husband

Move out to your own place, he said, his voice flat as dinner plates clattered. Victor had waited too long to start the serious talk with his wife, Alice. He could no longer postpone it.

Sit down, Alice, he asked, his tone low.

Alice turned off the gas stove and faced him, her eyes soft.

Whats wrong? she asked, concern creeping into her voice.

Victor avoided her gaze; shame tinged his cheeks.

Im leaving. I have another woman, her name is Lucy. We work together. It isnt just a fling, Alice. Its genuine love. I cant keep lying to you or to myself.

Alice received the news with a calm that surprised even her. She didnt weep, didnt fling dishes, didnt beg him to stay. She accepted his choice, but one condition proved hard to swallow: he wanted her to take the childrenher daughter from a previous marriage and their sonand move into her own territory, as if he needed space for his new life.

That night Alice lay awake, mind racing. Seventeen square metres, two kids, her modest accountants salary that barely covered the bills, and a help if possible from the man who had just shattered their family. How could she manage? Why should she become the victim, crush herself and the children for his comfort and new love?

In the morning she faced Victor.

Fine, Victor. Ill move out, she said.

He smiled, pleased.

Good girl. I knew you were sensible, he replied.

But theres one condition, Alice interrupted.

Whats that? he asked warily.

Youve fallen for someone else, I wont stop you. I wont split the flat, even though by law I could claim half. Keep it for yourself.

Really? Victors eyes lit up. Thanks then!

Really. Daisy and I will move into my studio; its small but well manage. Well get a bunk bed, shuffle things around.

What about Tommy? Victor asked, eyes flickering.

Alice stared him down.

The boy stays with you.

You mean with me? Youre joking. Hes a baby! He needs his mum!

In England, parents share equal rights and responsibilities. Youre his father. You asked me to have him, remember? I want a son to play football with. So let him stay with you.

Ill pay child support as the law dictates, and Ill collect him on weekendswhen I can, she added.

You you cant do that! Victor shouted. Youre a mother! What mother abandons her child?

Im not abandoning him; Im returning him to his father, Alice replied. He can stay in the spacious flat near the nursery, not crammed into a tiny studio. You said the conditions there arent ideal, so let the boy have better surroundings with you and Lucy. Let Lucy learn to be a stepmother if shes planning a future with you.

My job! Victor roared. Im busy all day! Who will take him to nursery? Who will pick him up? Who will feed, wash, and put him to bed?

I have a job too, Alice said evenly. Im busy as well. Ive managed for four years. Now its your turn. The boy needs a male role model. You always said I spoil him. Teach him. Make a man out of him.

Victor clutched his head, pacing the bedroom.

This is nonsense! Lucy wont accept a stray child! Shes only twentyfive. Why would she want that?

Thats your problem, dear, Alice said, crossing her arms. Youre the head of the household. Decide.

Double standards exhausted her. If he wanted a new life, he had to take responsibility.

Packing took two days. Victor drifted like a leaf in water, alternating between pleading, threatening, and calling on conscience.

Think about what people will say, Alice! he hissed as she boxed Daisys clothes. Your parents, my parents theyll gossip!

Let them gossip, Alice replied, sealing the box with tape. I cant survive on one salary with two of us in one room.

The worst part was the call from my mothershe cried on the phone three times that evening.

Girl, how can you leave young Tommy to his father? Hell be hurt! she wailed.

Mum, you live in Manchester. What can you do? Send money? Alice answered, tired.

Your pension is a joke, her mother scoffed.

Ive made my decision. Victor is the father. He must be a father in more than name alone.

On the day of departure Tommy ran around the flat, thinking it was a game. Alice knelt, brushed his hair, and whispered, Mum and Daisy will stay elsewhere for a while, but youll be with Dad. He loves you very much.

Will you come back? he asked, clutching his stuffed rabbit.

Ill visit on Saturday. Well go to the park and have icecream. Listen to Dad.

Daisy waited at the door, headphones around her neck, silent but supportive. Victor stood in the hallway, pale as a wall.

Are you really leaving? Just like that? he asked.

The keys are on the nightstand, Alice said, sliding a list of medicines onto the fridge. Tommys throat is a bit sore, he needs a gargle. Dont forget the Thursday meeting at the nursery.

Then she left.

Victors first week on his own was a disaster. Mornings began not with coffee and kisses from Lucy, but with Tommys scream, Dad, Im hungry! He chased missing socks, burnt porridge, and spilled milk. Tommy refused food, spat, and demanded cartoons.

Eat, you hear me! Victor shouted, late for work. Tommy began to cry.

Victor felt like a hamster on a wheel, biting his belt, then tossing it aside, handing Tommy a chocolate bar just to quiet him.

At the nursery staff kept noting, Dad, why is the child in a dirty shirt? Did you forget a spare top? You need to pay for the curtains. At work, his boss called him in twice, hinting that personal drama should not affect performance. Evenings turned into a second shift: picking up from nursery, shopping, cleaning, cooking. Tommy scattered toys across the floor the moment Victor stacked them.

Lucy arrived on the third day, wrinkling her nose at the mess.

We were supposed to go to the cinema, she complained, not taking off her shoes.

What cinema, Lucy? I cant leave Tommy unattended, Victor muttered, one sock missing.

How about we hire a nanny?

Do you know how much nannies cost? Half my salary goes on a mortgage!

Tommy barreled down the hallway, markerstained hands clutching Lucys trousers.

Auntie! Look, Im a tiger! he shouted.

Oi! Watch it! Lucy shrieked, leaping back. What are you doing? Thats a Dolce toy, its worth a fortune!

Hes a child, Lucy! Victor barked. Stop whining! Help me out!

Im not a nanny! I want attention, not a babysitting job! Lucy snapped, eyes wide. My ex set this up!

My ex spent four years raising him while I was at work! Victor blurted, surprised by his own outburst. Lucy huffed, slammed the door, and never came back.

By Saturday Victor resembled a shadow. He had lost weight, grown a scruffy beard, and dark circles haunted his eyes. The flat looked like a battlefield.

A knock at the door made him dash, stumbling over toy cars. Alice stood there, Daisy at her side.

Mom! Tommy cried, lunging into her arms. Alice kissed both cheeks.

Hello, my darlings. How are you both? she asked, eyes scanning the wreckage.

Victor leaned against the wall, knees shaking. He looked at Alice as if seeing her for the first time, finally grasping the colossal effort she had shouldered for years, smiling and never complaining.

Alice he croaked.

She raised an eyebrow.

Take him back, please. I cant cope. Ill lose my job. Lucys gone. I I dont know what to do.

Alice set Tommy gently on the floor. Show Daisy your new drawings, love.

The children scampered to their room. Alice surveyed the mountain of unwashed dishes and the dried buckwheat on the stove, then sat on the same cracked stool shed occupied a week ago.

I wont return here, Victor, she said evenly. After what youve done, I wont live with you.

Victor flailed his arms, covering his face. Damn Lucy! I get it now. I was wrong, completely wrong. Im a bad father, Alice

Learn, she said sharply. But the boy cant suffer. I have a proposal.

Victor lifted his head, hope flickering like a battered dog.

What is it?

Ill take Tommy; well all stay in this flat. You move to my studiothe same seventeen square metres you asked for. Live there, bring whoever you like. Ill transfer the lease to the children equally, so you cant evict us again for a new love.

Victor opened his mouth to protest, to call it theft, to claim the flat was also his

He remembered the week of nighttime cries, fevers, tantrums, the endless repeat of the same day. He recalled the empty house and the crushing helplessness.

Alice wasnt bluffing. If he refused, she would leave and he would be left alone with a responsibility he was catastrophically unprepared for.

Child support will be a fixed amount, plus half the fees for his activities, Alice continued, seeing his hesitation. You can see him whenever you want. I wont stop that. But well live here without you.

Victor sat in stunned silence, then exhaled.

Fine. I agree, he said.

Alice nodded. Gather your things, Victor. The studio is ready. Ill give you the keys now.

He rose, shuffled to the bedroom, and began packing. He had lost everything: his family, his son, his pride. Yet as he zipped his suitcase, a strange calm settled over him. For the first time in seven years, he felt he was finally doing the right thing.

The lesson was clear: love without responsibility is empty, and true adulthood begins when you choose duty over desire.