ANTHONY tell SHAYLA he want his wife back

Anthony Tells Shayla: ‘I Want My Wife Back’”

The wind carried the scent of summer rain, warm and familiar, as Anthony stood outside the house he once called home. He hadn’t been there in months. Not since everything fell apart. Not since the truth clawed its way out of the shadows and exposed everything he’d tried to hide.

It had taken him this long to build the courage to stand on Shayla’s porch again. And yet, even now—with flowers in hand and a heart full of apologies—he wasn’t sure she’d open the door.

He knocked twice.

Inside, Shayla was in the kitchen, music playing low as she stirred Kai’s pasta. The knock made her freeze mid-motion. She wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not this late.

When she opened the door and saw Anthony standing there, her heart stuttered in her chest.

He looked... tired. Not just physically, but like a man who’d been walking around with regret dragging behind him like a chain. The Anthony she remembered had confidence in his posture, a swagger in his smile. This man had none of that.

He held out the flowers. “I didn’t know if I should come… but I couldn’t stay away anymore.”

Shayla didn’t take the flowers. She didn’t say anything. She just stepped aside, silently allowing him in.

He walked into the living room like it was sacred ground. Everything was the same and yet nothing felt familiar. The family photos were still on the mantle, but the light in the room was different. Distant.

Shayla sat on the edge of the armchair, arms folded. “Say what you came to say.”

Anthony nodded slowly. “I know I don’t have the right to ask for your time. Not after what I did. But I need to say this out loud.”

He took a breath. “I messed up. I ruined everything we had. I let my ego, my confusion, and my selfishness destroy the best thing in my life. And I’ve lived with that every single day since you left.”

Shayla looked at him, expression unreadable. “Why now?”

“Because I’ve been pretending,” he said. “Pretending I’m fine. Pretending I moved on. But I haven’t. I still see you in everything. I still hear your voice in the quiet. And every time I see Kai’s smile, I remember what we built.”

“You questioned if he was yours,” she said softly. “You didn’t just break my heart, Anthony. You broke us.”

“I know.” His voice cracked. “I was scared. And I took that fear out on you. Instead of holding us together, I ran. Into lies. Into someone else’s arms. And it meant nothing. Nothing. Because all it did was show me what I lost.”

Shayla blinked, her eyes misting. But she didn’t speak.

He continued. “I’ve been in therapy. I’ve been working on myself. Not just for you — for me. For Kai. Because if there’s even a sliver of a chance to fix what I broke, I have to try.”

There was a long silence between them.

Then Shayla whispered, “You didn’t just hurt me, Anthony. You made me question myself. I blamed myself for not seeing it. For not being enough. You let me carry that.”

His voice was barely audible. “I know. And I will carry that shame the rest of my life.”

He stepped forward, slowly, like he was approaching something sacred. “But I’m standing here now, not with promises I can’t keep, but with intentions. I want to earn back your trust. I want to do the hard work. I want to come home.”

Shayla looked away, toward the kitchen. Kai’s laughter floated in from the hallway.

“I don’t know if I can do this again,” she said. “Not the way it was.”

Anthony nodded. “Then let’s not go back. Let’s start over. As strangers. As co-parents. As friends. Whatever you need. I’ll meet you where you are.”

She finally looked at him. Really looked at him.

And for the first time, she saw the man who had cracked open—not the proud, defensive Anthony who had once stood in her doorway with lies in his pocket, but the man who had learned from losing everything.

She stood.

“I’m not saying yes,” she said quietly. “But I’m not saying no.”

His eyes filled. “That’s more than I deserve.”

She took the flowers this time, her fingers brushing against his.

“Start with dinner,” she said. “For Kai.”

He smiled through the tears. “I’ll bring his favorite.”

As Shayla walked him to the door, she realized something strange.

Hope wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic.

Sometimes, it was just the sound of a second knock… being answered