The House of Hope
Emma lay awake, tracing the flickering headlight beams on the ceiling as cars passed by outside. Rain tapped a steady rhythm against the window ledge. On the sofa, Daniel let out a soft snore before falling still again. How long had it been since they’d shared a bed?
They’d met fourteen years ago. Emma had been running late for her best friend Sophie’s birthday party. By the time she arrived, the guests were already seated at the table.
“Come on, hurry!” Sophie dragged Emma inside before she could even take off her coat. Emma greeted everyone awkwardly, flustered by the curious stares. She thrust a gift into Sophie’s hands, barely meeting her eyes.
“Sophie, invite Emma to sit down, love,” Sophie’s mum chimed in warmly. “Daniel, fetch another chair from the kitchen.”
A tall, handsome bloke smiled at Emma and offered her his seat. It took her a moment to recognise Sophie’s older brother. He’d just returned from his gap year abroad, broader and more mature now. Soon, he returned with a stool and squeezed it in beside Emma.
Someone raised a toast, and glasses clinked. Daniel handed Emma a glass of red wine.
“I don’t drink,” she murmured.
“It’s grape juice,” he whispered, close enough that she caught his clean, woodsy scent. Their glasses touched lightly.
He spooned portions of each salad onto her plate. Across the table, Sophie’s schoolfriends kept stealing glances at Daniel, giggling behind their hands.
Later, when the parents tactfully retired to the kitchen, the music got louder, the table was pushed aside, and everyone started dancing. Daniel suggested they slip away. They walked for hours through the city, talking nonstop. After that night, they were inseparable.
“Now we can get married. Will you?” Daniel asked Emma after their graduation ball.
Would she? He even needed to ask. She’d been head over heels for ages. The only hesitation was her mum’s reaction.
“Married? Have you lost the plot? He’s got his trade certification sorted, but you need to go to uni, love. What’s the rush? Wait a few years, get on your feet first—” Her mum pressed a hand to her chest, blinking back tears.
“Sorry, but we can’t wait that long,” Daniel cut in firmly.
Her mum gasped, connecting the dots, and burst into tears.
So instead of university, seven months later, Emma gave birth to a baby boy. Daniel worked at the garage while she stayed home with little Jamie. She turned out to be a natural—loving, patient, doting.
They lived with Emma’s mum at first. When Jamie started nursery, Emma took a secretarial job with one of Daniel’s garage customers. Soon, they qualified for a mortgage on their own place.
A growing son, a loving husband, a happy home. Emma thought it would last forever. Then, a year ago, a beautiful young woman moved into the flat next door. One evening, she knocked with a Victoria sponge and a bottle of wine. Emma set out glasses, and they chatted.
Olivia—that was her name—had a wicked sense of humour. Her jokes had Daniel and Emma in stitches. Later, Olivia asked if Daniel knew anything about flat-pack furniture—she’d bought a wardrobe and needed help assembling it.
“Oh, he’s brilliant with his hands. Of course he’ll help,” Emma said breezily.
The next evening, after dinner, Daniel went over to assemble the wardrobe. Then Olivia needed boxes moved, a light fitting hung, shelves put up… Soon, Daniel was spending evenings next door. Sometimes Olivia popped round for a natter with Emma.
“You’re so lucky. Such a lovely family,” Olivia sighed. “Me? No husband, no kids.”
“Don’t worry. You’re young, gorgeous, funny. You’ll meet someone,” Emma reassured her.
“I already have,” Olivia blurted suddenly.
Emma tactfully didn’t pry, genuinely happy for her new friend. If Olivia’s hands trembled slightly, Emma put it down to nerves.
Then one day, Mrs. Hodgson from upstairs stopped Emma in the street.
“Hello, love. Just finishing work?”
“Yes. Sorry, I need to get home—”
“Wait. It’s none of my business, but you should know. My flat faces Olivia’s. I’m not snooping, but when you hear footsteps at odd hours… Well, you might want to save your marriage before it’s too late.”
Emma’s stomach knotted. “What are you on about?”
“The usual. Last night, I couldn’t sleep—went to warm some milk. Heard a door click soft-like. Peeked through the peephole…”
A cold dread slithered down Emma’s spine. She wanted to run. Mrs. Hodgson gripped her wrist.
“Out comes your Daniel from Olivia’s flat, sneaking back to yours.”
Emma wrenched free, stumbling back.
“Daniel’s a good man. The sort women like Olivia always chase. Think carefully, love. Don’t rush. Men being men… well, few resist when it’s handed to them.” Her voice droned like a drill in Emma’s skull.
Numb, Emma fled upstairs. *”It’s lies. Gossip. Daniel wouldn’t…”* But the sickening doubt festered. *”How could she? I made her tea, called her a friend—”* She barely stopped herself from storming next door. Instead, she waited for Daniel, praying it wasn’t true.
When he got home, she erupted. A vase shattered against the wall as he ducked. The crash snapped her back to her senses.
“Get out. I don’t care where. How could you? How will you face Jamie?” Her voice was hollow.
Daniel didn’t shout. Didn’t deny it. Just stood there, silent. Later, as Emma sobbed in the bath, he swept up the shards and slept on the sofa.
The next morning, he told her he wasn’t leaving. Emma didn’t reply before he left for work.
Olivia vanished—maybe moved away. Emma’s mum begged her not to act rashly. “Daniel’s a good man. Everyone slips. Think of Jamie—”
“I can’t forgive him, Mum. You didn’t forgive Dad, yet you’re telling me to?”
“I didn’t. And I’ve regretted it every day,” her mum said quietly.
But Emma refused to hear it. She and Daniel became flatmates—barely speaking.
“Laundry day. Give me your shirt.”
“Take the bins out.”
“Talk to Jamie—he got in a scrap at school.”
Daniel still slept on the sofa.
Spring arrived, warm and bright. They’d usually be planning bank holiday weekends together. Emma missed their late-night talks. But trust, once broken… *”If not Olivia, someone else.”*
Then her mum called. “Your dad’s passed.”
Emma froze. “Which dad?”
“*Yours*, obviously. The funeral’s done. He left you his house—his mum’s old place. He lived there alone. Wanted you to have it.”
“You *spoke* to him?”
“Now and then. He asked after you, Jamie. Forgive me for not saying. You and Daniel should go see the house. Sort the deeds, maybe sell it. Jamie’ll need uni funds soon.”
That evening, Emma set a plate before Daniel and relayed the news.
He listened silently.
“Well? We’re still married. We decide things together.”
“Your house.” Daniel stood to leave.
“I can’t handle this alone,” she pleaded.
“Fine. I’ll think about it.”
Days later, Daniel finally asked, “So, are we seeing this house?”
Jamie whinged about leaving his gadgets and mates, but Emma insisted. “One day only. Early start tomorrow.”
The drive was silent. Jamie dozed in the back until the car jolted onto a dirt track leading to the village.
The place was quaint but quiet. No one to ask for directions.
“Stop—I think that’s it.” Emma pointed to a weathered cottage.
An elderly woman, Mabel, bustled over. “Emma! Your dad waited ages…” She unlocked the door. “There’s firewood stacked. Stay the night—see how you like it.”
Against the chill, Daniel lit the hearth. Emma’s breath caught at a yellowed photo on the wall—her, aged two. *He* *thought of me.*
The house warmed, filling with the scent of woodsmoke and fresh tea. Jamie slept on the lumpy sofa while she and Daniel shared the creaky iron bed—backs turned, inches apart.
At dawn, Daniel and Jamie went fishing. Emma peeled potatoes, humming. Mabel returned with eggs and milk, chatting about how Emma’s dad had fixed roofs, chopped wood—helped everyone.
“They’re back!” Mabel nodded to the window. Jamie burst in, brandishing his catch, Daniel grinning behind him—lighter, freer.
They fried the fish, laughing as grease spattered. No one mentioned leaving.
That night, Daniel pulled Emma close. “IAs they drove back to the city, fingers laced together over the gearstick, Emma knew—no matter what storms came, this was where they belonged, and this time, they’d weather them side by side.
