Two Nights and One Day
Emily kept glancing at her watch. Time crawled like a snail, slow and sticky. There was still a full hour left until the end of the workday.
“What’s with the watch? In a hurry?” asked Margaret Wilkins, the head accountant.
“No, but—”
“A man, then? At your age, it’s always a man that makes a woman rush the clock. At mine, we dream of stopping it.” Margaret sighed. “Go on, then. You’re no use to me like this.”
“Thank you!” Emily hurried to close the program on her monitor.
“Do you love him?” Margaret asked with quiet curiosity.
“I do.” Emily met her gaze squarely.
Margaret’s desk sat at an angle to Emily’s, so she could see her perfectly. The cramped office left no other way to arrange the furniture. Emily felt as if she were under examination, Margaret’s watchful eyes never wavering.
“Why not marry him, then? Doesn’t he ask?” Margaret removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Ah. Married. Children too, I suppose? The usual story. Hid the truth at first, and by the time he told you, you were already in love—couldn’t walk away. Promised to leave when the children were older. Am I right?”
“How did you know?” Emily stared at her, wide-eyed.
“I was young once too. Think you’re the first to fall for that trick?” Margaret gave a wry smile. “If he didn’t leave his family straight off, he never will. Accept it. Walk away now.”
“But I love him.”
“When he tires of you—or heaven forbid, his wife finds out—it’ll hurt far worse. Save your dignity. Believe me. And don’t tarnish your karma.” She replaced her glasses, the stern accountant once more.
“Think on it. And don’t be late Monday,” she added without looking up.
“Love,” Margaret murmured, shaking her head as the office door shut behind Emily.
Emily raced down the stairs, bid the security guard a quick goodbye, and burst into the bright May sunshine. There, parked by the kerb, was Thomas’s car. She hurried toward it.
“Finally. Thought you’d never come. Sitting here like a sore thumb,” Thomas grumbled as she slid into the passenger seat.
He turned the ignition at once, pulling away from the office and merging into the stream of traffic.
“Where are we going? I didn’t understand your call,” Emily asked.
“Surprise.” Thomas shot her a look that made her heart flutter and warmth spread through her stomach.
The car left the city behind, speeding along the motorway before turning onto a narrow country lane winding through dense trees. Emily watched the road unwind, wishing they could drive on forever—just the two of them. Soon, the houses of a cottage village came into view.
“We’re here,” Thomas said cheerfully.
“You have a cottage?”
“Not mine. A friend’s. His wife’s expecting any day now—won’t be coming up for weekends. So it’s ours till Sunday.”
“And your wife? She just let you go for the whole weekend?” Emily eyed him skeptically.
He parked by a tall wooden fence.
“We’ve got two nights and a whole day ahead,” Thomas murmured, leaning in to kiss her.
*Just two nights and a day*, she thought bleakly. *And then back to how things were.*
Pulling away, Thomas got out and began unloading bags from the boot. Emily stepped out too, breathing in the fresh air—grass, leaves, something nostalgic, like her grandmother’s village.
*Two nights and one day! So much time! Together!* Joy surged through her, half-disbelieving.
“Like it?” Thomas stood beside her, smiling at her reaction. “Take this, then—let’s go in.” He handed her a bag and shouldered his own, leading the way through the gate.
“Have you been here before?” Emily asked as he fiddled with the lock.
“Of course. We’re mates.”
“With your wife, or—”
“Emily, don’t start. Don’t ruin it.” He pushed the gate open, ushering her inside.
The cottage was small, the silence so thick Thomas’s voice sounded muffled. *Why dwell on what can’t be changed? Enjoy the moment while it lasts.*
Dried flowers stood in a vase by the mirror, patterned curtains hung at the window, and the table was covered in a green-checked oilcloth. A wood stove divided the room from the kitchen nook, and a faded rug hung above the bed. Simple, cosy—utterly familiar, as if she’d been here before.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” Emily whispered that night, her head on Thomas’s shoulder. “Just us. No one in between.”
“Mmm,” he mumbled sleepily.
Emily woke first, lying still, listening to the quiet. *Needs geraniums on the sill. And a crocheted tablecloth, the kind with tassels.*
A muted phone ring shattered the morning. Thomas jerked awake, fumbling for his jeans.
“Yeah,” he rasped. “No—what noise? Just stepped in for water… I’ll call later.” He tossed the phone aside.
Emily’s stomach twisted. Margaret was right. One more night, and everything would return to stolen moments, secrecy—
The phone rang again. Thomas ignored it.
“Answer it,” Emily said.
He pulled her close instead, kissing her. The phone fell silent—then rang once more.
“*Answer it.*” She wrenched free and sat up.
With a sigh, he grabbed the phone. Emily didn’t listen, tugging on his shirt and stepping outside. The sun hadn’t yet cleared the trees; birdsong filled the air, a woodpecker tapping somewhere deep in the woods. She tried to imprint every scent, every sound—this morning might never come again.
“There you are.” Thomas came up behind her, arms encircling her waist. Through the thin fabric, she felt his warmth. Safe, cherished—until his phone trilled inside.
The spell broke as he left her. Cold, alone. Margaret’s words echoed: *The mistress’s role tires fast. You won’t settle for scraps forever. Walk away… Save your dignity… Or it’ll hurt worse.*
Back inside, Emily dressed, checked for forgotten things, and headed for the door.
“Where are you going? I turned it off—she won’t call again,” Thomas called.
Emily paused on the threshold.
“I’m going home.”
“Fine, I’ll drive you.” He sounded wounded.
“Don’t bother.” She shut the door behind her, hurrying down the lane.
How far had they driven from the motorway? She could hitch a ride there. Maybe Thomas would follow. She glanced back—empty road, cottages vanished behind trees.
Her heels pinched, feet aching. Thomas had called, promised a surprise, never mentioned the countryside, never let her pack properly.
A cloud darkened the sky; rain began to fall. No umbrella. Regret gnawed at her. *Where is he? Not even chasing me? Fine. Catch my death then.*
The downpour drummed on leaves, soaked her through. Tears mingled with rain.
An engine growled behind her. She startled as a car pulled up.
“Need a lift?” a man asked.
Too cold to hesitate, Emily climbed in. He turned the heater on; warmth seeped into her skin.
“Someone hurt you?” he asked.
She stared at the wipers.
“Must’ve, for you to take a stranger’s car in the middle of nowhere.”
“Stop. I’ve changed my mind.” Her hand flew to the door.
Trees loomed dense on either side. Fear prickled.
“Where’ll you go? The village is miles back. Just woods. Want trouble?” He eased to a stop.
The heater stifled her. She flung the door open—rain stung her skin.
“Another car won’t come. You’ll fall ill. Rain won’t let up. Stay or go—I’ve got a daughter waiting.”
“Wife, too?” she snapped, not moving. “Or a mistress at the cottage?” The words tasted bitter—this man had done nothing.
“In town, my girl’s waiting. Shut the door.”
His calm face didn’t seem dangerous. Reluctantly, she closed it.
“Didn’t mean to scare you. But a lone woman in the woods, in the rain…”
Silence.
“Took my mum to her cottage. Left early—my daughter was asleep. Wanted to be back before she woke.”
“How old is she?”
“Eleven.”
“And her mum?”
“Died a year and a half ago.”
“I’m sorry,” Emily whispered.
“Don’t be. I nearly lost myself too, back then. But who’d have looked after her? You’ll survive. Everything passes—except death.” The words were hard, final.
The city rose in the distance. His phone rang.
“Awake, Mouse? Be home soon.” He pocketed it. “Daughter. I’m Robert.”
“Emily smiled faintly, realizing that sometimes the hardest endings lead to the most unexpected beginnings.
