The Shadow of the Past: A Dream Unfolding in Emily’s Heart
Emily sat in the quiet of their home, wrapped in the hushed routine of the sleepy town of Oakford. Maternity leave had dulled the days into a blur of lullabies and chores, each one bleeding into the next. But every evening, she clung to the sound of James’s key turning in the lock—her tether to the world beyond their little house. Tonight, he arrived later than usual, weariness clinging to him, his expression oddly distant.
“How was work?” she asked, the same soft smile on her lips, hoping for something—anything—to break the monotony.
James hesitated, as if searching for words. The silence between them grew thick, heavy as storm clouds gathering.
“You’ll never believe the coincidence,” he finally muttered, forcing a laugh. “Small towns, eh?”
“What do you mean?” Emily tensed, a cold prickle creeping up her spine.
“There’s a new girl at the office. When I saw her, I nearly froze. It’s—It’s Lauren. Lauren Whitmore.”
The name hit like a hammer, cracking open memories she’d buried deep. Seven years ago, when she first met James, he had been different—laughing, open, but untouchable. His heart belonged to someone else: Lauren, the very name now twisting like a knife in Emily’s chest.
She hadn’t interfered back then. She respected what wasn’t hers, too afraid to shatter someone else’s happiness. They’d crossed paths through mutual friends, and sometimes she caught herself stealing glances at him, admiring his warmth, his easy charm. She’d wondered how lucky Lauren was, wishing she could find someone like him. Then one day, James appeared alone, his light dimmed. They’d broken up—at Lauren’s insistence.
Emily had pitied him, though secretly, something in her had thrilled. This was her chance. She waited, making sure the split was final. Months later, she invited him to dinner. And just like that, their story began. They clicked effortlessly, and within weeks, something sparked between them. Two years later, they married. Three years after that, their daughter arrived, and now here she was, nesting in the quiet of maternity leave.
But Lauren… Lauren was the one James had once loved to the point of heartbreak. The one whose place Emily had taken. All these years, she’d wondered if their love was just a balm for his old wounds. She’d hoped time had made his feelings genuine—but now, with Lauren’s name echoing through their home, the old fears came rushing back.
“Wow,” Emily managed, her voice betraying the tremor in her hands. “How—how is she?”
James shrugged, his gaze sliding away. “Didn’t really talk. Just said hello.”
“Is she married?” The words stuck in her throat.
“Don’t know.” Irritation flickered in his voice. “Doesn’t matter to me. We smiled, moved on. Why would I care?”
But Emily knew he wasn’t being honest. His words sounded like an excuse—not just for her, but for himself. Jealousy slithered through her veins. What if Lauren took him back? What if the old flame still burned? She remembered how deeply he’d loved her. That had been real. All-consuming.
James, of course, was lying—if only to himself. He *was* curious. And he *had* been glad to see her. Something inside him stirred when their eyes met. No, he loved Emily. Loved their daughter. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt them. But now he found himself counting the hours until the next workday, eager just to talk to Lauren again. Just to chat. Was that so wrong?
Seeing the worry in Emily’s face, he tried to reassure her before leaving:
“I’ll try to come home early today—wrapped things up already. Fancy making something nice for dinner?”
“Of course,” she whispered, forcing a smile.
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” she answered, but the words shuddered.
The door clicked shut behind him, and her smile collapsed. He *never* said “I love you” before leaving. Was that a bad sign? Or a good one? They said men only started paying extra attention when guilt gnawed at them. The thought clawed at her.
She tried to distract herself with her daughter, now stirring from her nap. But the dread wouldn’t loosen its grip.
At the office, James saw Lauren again.
“Hey, you look great,” she smiled, eyes gleaming.
“So do you,” he replied, something tightening in his chest.
“Fancy lunch? Catch up properly?”
“Why not…?”
He knew it was dangerous. Boundaries should’ve been set. But what harm was there in a simple meal with a colleague? They lingered in the café, talking like no time had passed. Lauren wasn’t married—never found the right one.
“Couple years later, I regretted ending things,” she admitted. “But by then, you were taken.”
“*You* dumped *me*,” he reminded her, a flicker of old hurt in his voice.
“Guess I was stupid,” she laughed. “Wouldn’t let you slip away now.”
Silence settled, thick with tension. This wasn’t just talk. James hadn’t felt this rush in years. His love for Emily was steady, but… ordinary. After their daughter’s birth, the romance had faded to quiet affection. Now, suddenly, that old thrill was back.
They returned to work. Lauren asked for help with a new company system. He stayed late, texting Emily he’d be home late—the guilt pricking him. But the pull of Lauren was stronger.
An hour passed, the line between professionalism blurring. Lauren turned, smiling. Their faces close. One wrong move—
James stood abruptly. “I should go. They’re waiting.”
Lauren nodded, but disappointment darkened her gaze.
The drive home weighed on him. He hadn’t crossed the line. He was faithful. But faithfulness wasn’t just about actions—it was thoughts, desires. And there, he wasn’t sure.
Emily waited with dinner, reheating his favourite shepherd’s pie, desperate to please. She didn’t ask about his day, afraid of the truth.
But James saw her sorrow—the quiet pain in her eyes. And in that moment, he understood: no fleeting thrill was worth her tears. Worth his guilt. Worth their family.
“You know,” he said suddenly, “remember how Tom’s been asking me to join his firm? Better pay. Maybe I should take it.”
“You always said you wouldn’t work under a friend,” she murmured.
“I did. But things need shaking up. No growth at my current place. Tom and I could make it work—just keep it professional.”
“You sure?” Hope flickered in her voice.
“Sure,” he smiled. “I want us happy. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
She didn’t ask what had changed. But him willing to leave—just for her peace—warmed her. Whatever happened, he loved her. He’d fight for them.
James knew he’d been close. He could’ve regretted it. Maybe whatever he felt for Lauren would’ve faded—but he wouldn’t risk it. Wouldn’t let Emily flinch every time he left for work.
Maybe he should’ve felt nothing. But life didn’t work that way. What mattered was the choice he made.
Sometimes, choice was stronger than passion. Sometimes—it *was* love.
