Winning Her Back

The sound of his car engine rang through the compound just as Ann wiped the last plate dry.

She paused for a second, pressing a hand against the small of her back as another dull ache spread through her body. Her legs throbbed from standing all day. Between working at the company, caring for the house, preparing dinner for the family, and looking after everyone under the same roof, exhaustion had become a permanent companion.

She looked down at the slight swell of her stomach and smiled faintly. "I'm trying, little one," she whispered. "Just bear with me."

Her first pregnancy had barely allowed her to find herself again before another unexpected pregnancy followed. Since then, every day has become a struggle to catch her breath.

Living with her husband's parents made everything harder. His mother expected perfection. His father rarely spoke.

His younger siblings left dirty dishes and clothes everywhere, somehow believing she existed solely to clean after them.

Yet every morning she woke before sunrise. Every night she slept after everyone else. And still...

It was never enough.

She glanced at the clock. 7:18 p.m. Daniel was home later than usual.

She quickly adjusted her scarf, wiped the flour from her hands, and walked toward the entrance.

The front door opened before she reached it. A smile naturally formed on her face. "Welcome—"

The greeting froze. Daniel wasn't alone.

Standing beside him was a woman. Elegant. Beautiful.

Every strand of her long hair rested perfectly on her shoulders. Her fitted wine-colored dress hugged her figure effortlessly, and her expensive heels shine elegantly.

She looked nothing like someone who had spent the day rushing between office work, cooking, laundry, and endless family responsibilities.

For a brief moment, Ann assumed she was one of Daniel's colleagues. She stepped aside politely.

"Good evening."

The woman looked at her from head to toe before smiling. Not warmly or kindly. The smile smelled mockingly.

"So..." She tilted her head. "This is your wife?"

Daniel removed his wristwatch without looking at Ann. "Yes."

The single word was flat. Cold. Almost dismissive like she was less of his business.

The stranger chuckled quietly and snorted, "I expected someone... different."

Ann's smile weakened. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "We weren't expecting visitors."

Daniel looked up. "No." His voice was sharp and cut through the entire room. "You weren't expecting visitors."

The emphasis made Ann’s stomach tighten. Something wasn't right.

She looked at him carefully. His face carried no trace of the man who usually came home asking about her day. No warmth. No concern. No affection. Only irritation.

"Daniel..."

"What?"

"Is everything alright at work?"

He laughed. A bitter laugh. "You always ask the wrong questions."

She frowned. "I only wanted to know if—"

"If what?"

"If something happened." She lamented

"Oh, something happened." He stepped closer until only a few inches separated them.

"You happened."

Silence swallowed the room as Ann blinked bashfully, shocked at his response. Was everything truly okay? "I don't understand." She found her voice back.

"You never do." His voice grew harder.

She took some steps. "You've changed."

He raised his eyebrows. "You answer back."

"You ignore what I say." She snapped.

"You act like you're doing me a favor by being my wife." He fired.

Her lips trembled. "I've never meant to disrespect you."

"No?" He folded his arms.

"So every time I ask for something and you sigh..."

"Every time you keep me waiting because you're 'tired'..." He cut her short

"Every time you speak with that attitude..."

"I'm imagining it?"

Ann lowered her eyes. "I'm tired because I'm trying to keep everything together."

"There." Daniel pointed at her. "That's exactly what I mean."

"Always an excuse," she bellowed, her voice filled with pain

The woman finally stepped forward. "I've heard so much about you."

Ann turned politely. "I'm sorry... have we met before?"

"No." A smile that turned into a smirk spread on her face. "But Daniel talks." She deliberately walked around the living room as though inspecting the house.

"So this is where you live." Her fingers brushed lightly across a table. Then, she turned to face Ann. "You could at least dust properly."

Ann instinctively reached for the cloth. "I'm sorry. I cleaned this morning."

The woman laughed. "Oh dear. Do you apologize for everything?"

Daniel answered before Ann could. "She does.” The stranger shook her head. "That's usually what guilty people do." He added.

Ann looked between them in confusion. "Guilty?"

Daniel's expression remained unreadable. "You've become impossible to live with."

Her heart skipped. Impossible? After everything she had sacrificed?

She remembered mornings when she left the house before sunrise for work. Evenings spent cooking for eight people. Sleepless nights nursing a sick child while everyone else rested. Hospital visits she attended alone because Daniel was "too busy."

The tears threatening to escape burned behind her eyes. Still...

She refused to cry. Not in front of strangers.

The woman sat comfortably on the sofa as though she belonged there. "I like this place."

Daniel nodded. "You'll get used to it."

Ann frowned, lines lining up on her forehead. "What does that mean?" She snarled.

"It means exactly what it sounds like." Daniel looked directly into her eyes. "She'll be spending time here." Then he faced away. "Often."

The room suddenly felt smaller.

"You mean... visiting?"

"If that's what you want to call it."

Her breathing became uneven. She searched his face for a smile. A joke. Anything. Nothing came.

The stranger crossed one leg over the other. "You know, Ann, marriage is interesting." She said and made a slight chuckle before continuing. "Sometimes a man gets tired of coming home to complaints. Sometimes he wants peace. Sometimes he simply wants to be appreciated."

Ann answered quietly. "I have never stopped appreciating my husband."

Daniel scoffed. "You appreciate me?"

She nodded.

"Then why does it always feel like I come second to your excuses?"

"My pregnancies aren't excuses. They're realities." She tried to explain. "I've been trying my best."

"Your best?" His laughter filled the room again.

"If this is your best, then maybe your best isn't good enough."

The words struck deeper than he knew. Ann clasped her trembling hands together. She wanted to explain. She wanted to remind him of every sacrifice. Every lonely hospital appointment. Every meal she skipped so the family could eat. Every night she cried silently after everyone slept.

But something inside her stopped her. Some battles could not be won by shouting. So she simply stood there, trying desperately to understand why the man who once promised to protect her now seemed determined to become the very storm she needed protection from.